A different path
by Kreuse
Summary: Arthur decides to change his Destiny.
1. Chapter 1 : The end of one world

_**A different path**_

Chapter 1 : The end of one world

Arthur watched the blade seared into the enchanteress' side, a scream stuck in his throat. The dark silhouette's fled and Morgana's fell, so slowly it could have been a dream if he didn't see the shock on her face. Unfrozen at last, he rushed forward to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Morgana!"

Her pale green eyes fluttered open, filled with so much pain he shook.

"Arthur… I nearly wait…"

Even stabbed to death, she wanted to bicker. He eased her gently on the floor, her head against his chest, her curls hardened by dust tangling in his chainmail.

"Shush… Don't talk. It'll be alright. I-"

Her fingers on his lips were icy cold already.

"No. Even you cannot fix this… Humf! You're hurting me…" She complained, wincing when Arthur pressed both hands to her wound to stop the bleeding. "Just hold me, Arthur… I don't want to be alone anymore… Always peace in your arm-"

"No, no Morgana don't close your eyes, Morgana!"

Pain vanished from the beautiful face as he embraced her, too tight for her to breathe properly, yet it didn't matter anymore. For a brief instant, he wanted to believe she had just fainted. That in a minute she was to burn him with acid words for misbehaving, or simply to stare like she used to do, baring his soul with those incredible green eyes. But no. She was gone at last.

Tears filled his eyes. Arthur let out a growl. His cry amplified, until it reached the sky and tiny white ears.

Aithusa landed near the couple, the young king hugging the dead body of his half-sister. Her blood had darkened the crimson of his cloak. He had his forehead pressed to hers, his fingers clutching to the rough material of her dress.

"King Arthur, I can help."

"She's dead, don't you… Bloody hell!"

Still holding Morgana with one arm, Arthur grabbed his sword to face the creature. Aithusa bowed his head.

"I can save her, but you have to-"

"No. If you bring her back now, it will be the same. She'll be alone and sad and it would be my fault."

He kissed the delicate skin, something he hadn't done in a long time. He could not accept she was gone, but he would not let her suffer more of this life.

"Bring me back."

"I… It's forbidden."

"I don't care! My father is dead; my sister hated me and she died in pain, my wife loved another man. I DON'T CARE! Take me back to the day all went wrong!"

The dragon bowed his reptilian head so he could look directly into Arthur's eyes.

"She never hated you, King Arthur. She loved you deeply. So much that she doomed herself so you live."

"I don't want to live without her. Take me back. Now."

"If I do that, you will have a miserable life. You will remember every pain, every betrayal, unless a detail changes the future. And then, your memory will alter, so before long you will have to battle to know what's real and what's not. If you aren't strong enough, such burden can drive you mad."

Arthur looked down once more to the woman he had failed in so many ways.

"I understand. Take me back."


	2. Chapter 2 : a door opens

Chapter 2 : A door opens

Arthur woke up in a start, the pounding in his chest nearly matching the one in his head. Rubbing his eyes with tired fists, he pushed on his feet, and regretted it instantly when the room swirled around him. He used the bed pole to steady himself, grunting when his eye caught only darkness through the window.

Feeling stronger on his legs, the prince approached the large window to look at the courtyard. The ghostly figure of the black knight was at his incomprehensible vigil, fully armed, and his head straight ahead. Save for the threatening silhouette, the place was empty. At this hour, even the sentinels were probably sleeping, despite Leon's strict orders to watch the doors (and the black knight).

He frowned. He remembered that day. Gaius had drugged him so his father faced the black knight instead of him. Yet he didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night. Or has he? Gaius's sleeping draughts were not that reliable, Morgana complained about them endlessly. Morgana…

Arthur jumped when a locking sound came from behind him. He waited for a few minutes, but nothing else happened. Tiptoeing, he tried the doorknob on his side. Locked. He renounced shaking the doors, in any case anyone was waiting in the corridor. Someone had locked him in during his sleep, so his father could take his place during the fight. Quickly, the prince put a shirt on, and slipped out of his chambers through the service door before his mysterious visitor remembered that one too had to be locked.

The staircase was icy cold. Arthur hurried one floor down; Merlin would be surprised to see him at this hour, but it would not be the first time the prince sneaked in Gaius' quarters in the middle of the night to seek his servant's help. _Except Gaius had been the one bringing the potion._ Arthur turned tail and climbed up another fling of steps, longing the empty corridor until he found the door he was looking for.

"Morgana… Morgana are you awake?"

"Arthur!"

One hand quickly muffled her alarm. She nodded and he took out his gag.

"What are you doing here?"

She sounded more curious than furious. Arthur heaved out a sigh, deeply relieved she knew him well enough to accept the intrusion, and vaguely disturbed to realize she wasn't that shocked to find him half-dressed by her bed in the middle of the night. She gave him the cold shoulder so often in these days…

"Can I stay here tonight?"

Her vivid eyes widened in awe, before they narrowed to a suspicious green line. Her voice turned as cold as ice.

"I'll do you a favour, and I'll forget to report this to your father tomorrow morning if you leave now."

"Please… I'll sleep on the chair over there."

Arthur moved away from her, indicating the named chair, some hard wood furniture she used to do some embroidery. She hated sewing. The uncomfortable seat served as an excuse to cut it short every time. Morgana snatched his wrist in a surprising strong grip.

"First tell me what you're doing in my chambers. And why you entered by the servants' door."

"Gaius drugged me and someone tried to lock me in."

She frowned slightly. Shouldn't have she looked at least surprised?

"They did it then."

"What are you talking about?"

The question was out before he could stop himself. He would have to act surprised, whatever she told him. Arthur prayed the dim light hid his face well. She could always tell when he was lying. Morgana released his arm, gracefully bailing him to sit near her.

"I overheard your father and Gaius in the throne room after you left this afternoon. Your father decided to take your place in the dual and he ordered Gaius to, I quote 'act accordingly'."

Arthur leaned back on the pillows, uncaring about her delicate brow shooting up.

"I can't believe he did that to me."

His father hadn't trust him to find his way through the fight. At the time, the idea had torn his heart in pieces. It still stung.

"Uther would do anything to protect you, Arthur. He loves you."

Her murmur forced him to turn his face from the canopy to her. In the semi-darkness of the room, her eyes glittered like pale emeralds. An urge to touch her cheek to see if she would close her eyes like a cat under the caress made him shiver. Arthur straightened up and pushed away from the lady, repeating his former question.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can."

Her next gesture astonished and flustered him.

"Hurry up, Arthur, it's cold."

He climbed into the offered space, tugging the covers under his arms, his elbows along his side. The mattress shifted, and he guessed Morgana had turned to look at him. Her smirk sparkled in her voice.

"I'll send Gwen in the morning for your clothes."

He swallowed the lump cloying his throat, only to have it reappeared when a light brush caressed his neck, a sigh warm and tantalizing soft, which confirmed she had indeed turned to face him. Tease and laugher ceded way to vulnerability in her next question.

"You will defeat him, won't you?"

Arthur rolled his head on the side to stare at Morgana.

"Of course I will. I just need a good sword, but Merlin will take care of that."

Her eyes cleared again, and she closed the distance between them to rest her cheek on his shoulder, her fine hands linking around his biceps.

"Oh; good."

Pride puffed in his chest, or the blowing was something entirely different. Something only her had ever created deep inside him. Even now, after all that happened, Arthur hesitated to name the feelings whirling inside him. Tenderness seemed good. Yet not good enough. Love… There were so many ways to love someone. It didn't matter. She was here with him, alive, and he was glad to hold her close.

Probably Morgana read the darker corners of his mind, for her nails chastised him not too gently.

"Ow… Why did you do that?"

"You know why, Arthur Pendragon. Now let me sleep."

Arthur grinned in the dark. Yes, maybe he knew why she had to remind him they were just childhood friends, teenager opponents, accomplices, challengers and everything in between. Yet things had started to change, already.

"Sweet dreams, My Lady."

"Good night, My Champion."

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><p><em><strong>AN : **_**So, here we are... The "Excalibur" episode... The Dragon warned Merlin that if anyone but Arthur used the Sword, a great evil would come to Camelot... Your thought? Next chapter : the fight!**


	3. Chapter 3 : Fight destiny

**Disclaimer : I don't own Merlin. Characters belong to the legend, BBC, and the wonderful actors who personify them. I twist the original plot to entertain only. Don't sue**

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><p>Chapter 3 : Fighting destiny<p>

Morgana walked alongside the King, her hand firmly locked around his elbow, preventing him to stride. By the tension in Uther's arm, she guessed he would have _run_ to arena if his duty hadn't required he escorted her. An eyebrow quirked here, a bat of lashes there, a worried smile while she helped him with his armor; the poor man had never noticed she was delaying him more than anything else.

Arthur would have noticed. And no doubt complained about her so-called assistance. But Uther simply patted her hand, telling her not to worry with a fatherly smile, and offered his arm. Why on earth she had decided to buy Arthur time, she had no clue. He certainly hadn't asked for it. He was already gone when she woke up, the print of his head on the pillow next to her the only sign he had indeed spent the night.

The whole scene felt surreal, another product of her restless dreams. She remembered his asking in a blur. Even the scowl on his face when she revealed Uther's scheme to stop him from fighting felt phony. He rarely, no, never, let his feelings show especially when his father humiliated him, and least of all to her… Yet yesterday night…

The clash of metal against metal interrupted her thoughts. Uther stiffened. A collective gasp erupted. Alarmed, she hardened her grip on the King, but this time Uther shook her hand off. He rushed to the courtyard. Morgana followed suit as fast as she could, her hands fisting her skirts.

By the time they reached the entry, Arthur was lying on his back. The black giant had broken his shield in two. He prepared to stab the prince with his massive sword. Uther cursed loudly, gripping Gaius who was standing near the arena by the collar.

"You were supposed to lock him up, drugged!"

Arthur rolled on himself to avoid the blow. The second it took the black knight to straighten up to strike again, the prince was on his feet, on a defensive stance. His sword caught the morning sunlight to gleam, blinding.

Her heart racing, Morgana abandoned the king and the physician to circle the court and reached her place under the canopy. Gwen took her hand when she sat in hast.

"The knight attacked him as soon as he put his cloak away, my lady. He is very strong."

"Arthur will beat him."

Her voice didn't sound that confident in her own ears. But he had to win. She sensed something was changing; for the first time in years, she wanted to know what. She refused to imagine her life in Camelot without him to argue. Never Uther and her would bore a life without Arthur to settle peace between them and...

The two opponent circled each other so now she saw Arthur's back rather than his face. The black knight dominated the prince by a least one foot. With his old-styled armour, he seemed even bigger. His sword hissed around. Morgana jumped when it met Arthur's weapon just an inch from his left biceps. Quick as lightning, the prince twisted his grip to strike back, aiming at the head.

"Tchah. Tristan won't fall into such an easy trap."

Uther sank onto his chair. Morgana stayed mute, absorbed by the deadly dance in front of her. The black knight was the late queen older brother, Tristan de Blois. Uther had killed him bluntly years ago when the grieving knight had reclaimed vengeance for his sister's death. Igraine's younger brother, Agravaine, was still alive, though he hadn't set one foot in the castle since Arthur's fourteen birthday. She remembered a dark-haired man, with a sneak look on him, who glimpsed at her with calculating sleazy eyes. She wasn't that much in a hurry to meet Lord Agravaine again.

Arthur stumbled under another hard blow, capturing her attention once more. The young man panted heavily. It worried her (just a little) to see he was defending himself constantly, blocking attack after attack without mastering a proper riposte. Sir Pelinor had done the same. And Pelinor was dead. A small voice murmured behind her.

"Come on Arthur… Come on come on come on. Yes!"

Merlin yelled. Arthur pushed his sword deep under his adversary's front plate. The massive knight dropped his weapon in the sand. A horrible yowl blew over the cheering. The prince tottered back, exhausted. A silver fog swirled in the air from the black armor, surrounding the winner. For a second, Arthur was just a shadow in the whirlwind of sand and dust and smoke. Morgana bite back a small cry. Then the pieces of metal crashed on the ground, empty.

Arthur tore his helmet of his head, panting. He searched her eyes and smiled. She beamed back, the relief on her face too much to conceal. Uther simply stared. And at that instant, Morgana wondered if the clear eyes fixed on the prince shone with pride, or defiance.

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><p><strong>Review please?<strong>


	4. Chapter 4 : Nightmares

**A/N: You're going to hate me, because this chapter is quite as short as the previous one. The next one will be longer, I promise.**

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><p>Chapter 4 : Nightmares<p>

"NO!"

Arthur shut up on his bed. His shirt clung to his back, wet with perspiration. His heart pumped madly in his chest, the pump nearly unbearable against his sore ribs. He heaved air in and out slowly, but pushing the sheets away.

The prince stumbled to the basin he used for wash and splashed some water on his face. The cold partly chased away the fright from the nightmare. Yet he remembered every detail; vividly.

Silver glittered in the shadows. He was too late to stop the dagger. Too far away from her. Morgana's blood spilled on his hands when he caught her in her fall. He held her when she died. Her blood was on his hands. Again.

Arthur bit back a yowl. Four years. He couldn't begin to realize how blind and selfish he had been. He asked that ghosty dragon to taken him by to take him back to help. And here he was, four years before his time. All this time, all these months, he walked beside Morgana without seeing she needed him. Worst was he thought things were great. They had stopped fighting for all and everything. They got along, chatted like adults instead of trying to bite each other heads off. And all this time, she felt like he had abandoned her; like he didn't care. Maybe he didn't. He was too preoccupied with his romance with Gwen and his knights and his duty. He didn't realize what Morgana meant to him, until it was too late.

The bowl crashed on the floor as Arthur wiped the table with a cry of rage. She wore a red velvet dress in his dream. Her eyes closed without accusing him all the same. She looked so sad and so lonely. He had changed nothing. Or too little. He couldn't let her die. He would not.

The prince rubbed his face with both hands. His mind wrapped around more images without being able to grab any. An island in the fog. Crows. Unbeatable knights. Morgana dressed like some dark priestess of the Old Religion; snakes large enough to eat a man. Magic… She never wore black. She loathed the color. Arthur contemplated the pieces of porcelain on the floor then he straightened up. He had to know.

"Morgana?"

"Arthur!"

Her book snapped shut when it escaped her hands. She was prompted upright against her pillows, narrowing tired eyes on him.

"This is not to become an habit I trust?"

Arthur closed the door behind him cautiously to have its cracking. He pointed at her book.

"You weren't sleeping."

"And that's your excuse to invade my privacy again tonight?"

"Are you inviting me to stay?"

Her blush at the riposte amazed him. Had he been able to fluster her, before? He'd never noticed. She was lovely when she blushed. Of course, it didn't matter. The raven hair beauty was off limit.

Her stare mirrored the candlelight, fixed on the curtains behind him.

"Morgana?"

"Did you feel…"

Her voice echoed in the silent room like a dream. The fire in the hearth cracked and she shivered, lashes fluttering, almost surprised to see him by her bed.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?"

He couldn't tell if her question was the logical path to their previous conversation, or if she'd been lost in another world all along. He preferred ignoring the answer.

"What did you feel?"

The green eyes flashed in panic.

"Nothing!"

She strained, knuckles whitened around her book.

"You should not be here. You have to leave."

She nearly panted; the book made a pitiful shield in front of her. Arthur gently picked it up, easing her fingers from around it. Her hand was icy.

"Morgana talk to me…"

She looked at his hand first, then back to the window. Outside, the warning bells tore out the silence of the night. Arthur threw the book back onto her lap, jumping to the window. Guards were already searching the lower town.

A memory overlapped the blur in his head: Tom, the blacksmith, claiming his innocence, and his father's blind hatred, too quick judgement. Morgana had tried to plead for the man and…

The prince spun on his heels, approaching the bed in two strides. The restless lady was already slipping out of her bed. He grabbed her by the shoulders. Four years ago, when he released her from the dungeon, he had read hate in her stare for the first time. He would not let her walk this path again. Not if he could help it.

"Morgana, whatever happened, don't get out. And don't get involved, in any way. I'll take care of it."

The beautiful lady stared back at him, sea-green plunging in deep blue. For a second, he saw her shrugged indifferent to his orders. He was needed outside. People were yelling. Morgana needed him too. Torn between the two, Arthur repeated: "I'll take care of it. Please."

She took his hands off her shoulders. His heart sank in his chest. He had lost. And then she nodded.

"Tell me what you want me to do."


	5. Chapter 5 : Gwen

Chapter 5 : Gwen

Morgana turned abruptly, annoyed to bump into Arthur. Again.

"Are you stalking me? I don't need a bodyguard to go and see my friend!"

"I am not following you, we just happen to go in the same direction. I want another look at that shop."

"Why?"

Arthur avoided answering, taking her arm to help her out of the walk-line of an overloaded cart. Morgana whisked her hand off.

"You're insufferable."

He smirked.

"Because I stopped you from being stumped by a donkey? Really?"

Morgana snorted. His grin grew.

"You complain half the time about my behaviour and when I'm acting like a gentleman, you sulk? Seriously, Morgana, a lesser man would talk about windwhir-."

She interrupted before he ruined it all with a disgraceful comment. Sometimes, she thought Arthur needed to grow up. Yet bantering with him was fun. When he wasn't drilling those impossible blue eyes into hers with that winning sneer on his lips. Morgana her skirts up while stepping over a puddle last night rain had left between two stones.

"I would have seen that cart if you hadn't startled me. A gallant man would not have put my safety in jeopardy in the first place. And" she hammered each word "I never sulk."

They came across a group of knights, led by Leon. The men saluted them wearily. Arthur frowned. Some soldiers seemed ill-at-ease in his presence ever since he had argued publically with his father about the blacksmith's judgment (for nothing, at that; the man was still in prison). Others welcomed him with even bigger smiles, like Leon. Unless Leon was grinning at the lady by his side. His frown deepened, even more because the tall knight would be all right as a brother-in-law. Probably. If Arthur didn't kill him first for having those kinds of thoughts about his...

Morgana slipped one hand around his elbow, the light touch refocusing his attention on her. Arthur half-expected she asked what was wrong; he dreaded she did. He didn't want to lie to her. Ideas of murdering her potential suitors vanished, leaving only guilt. Last night, she had died again in his nightmare, dressed in crimson, falling by the hand of a shadow.

Arthur stopped in his tracks, earning himself another glare.

"What is it now?"

"Do you believe…" he hesitated, changed his mind about asking about dreams. "Nothing. Shall we?"

This time, Morgana neglected his offered arm to face him fully. She had never seen him stumble on words before. And yet, he had never defied his father either. She searched the blue eyes set on her, uncaring about the people stopping to look at them curiously. The rich colour of his stare made her annoyance flew away like leaves in autumn. Since he had fought against that black knight, his eyes looked older. His stare deepened when it brushed over her as if he harboured a secret as dark as hers. Morgana wished that for once, he dropped that reserve he cloaked himself with, so she could help. Pendragon men always denied her to help.

"My lady? Prince Arthur?"

She jumped, clasping her hands out of Arthur's, her cheeks in flame.

"Gwen… We were… Well, _I_ was coming to see you."

Arthur nodded briefly toward the maid and excused himself. Morgana bit her tongue not to watch his retreat. These days, Arthur's behaviour was more disturbing than ever. But at least, she didn't dream.

Arthur closed the door of the barn behind him. The place was warm, with a small fire still burning. He guessed Gwen took care of it, with Tom still in cage and Elyan… The dark-skinned knight had never explained why he didn't live in Camelot with his father and younger sister. And Arthur had never asked. Maybe another mistake he would need to correct. So many things to fix…

He leaned against the door. The heat inside gave him a headache. It was barely spring, and he was always too hot. He forced Merlin to leave the windows opened at night, and damped the sheets with sweat nonetheless. The nightmares were always there, merciless, lurking in the back of his mind during the day, and assaulting him as soon as he closed his eyes. Different dreams, Morgause, a strange beast looking like a cat with wings, and so many deaths he lost count. All of the deaths were his fault. He killed so many… They haunted him. They did so before he made that pact with the white dragon. Maybe he had hoped to escape them, deep inside. But he didn't. He couldn't. Night after night he saw the men and women fall. Never twice the same body, save one. One death was always there. Morgana cried softly when a shadow pierced her flank, and as fast as he ran each time, she always died.

Arthur inhaled deeply, opening his eyes to look around. He remembered, yes, this was still a memory, there was something in the hay. Something Morgana had taken in the past. Maybe if he recovered it first, he would be able to stop this madness and prove Tom innocent.

"My lord?"

Gwen's soft call made him jump out of his skin. Arthur pushed away from the door at once, retreating several steps inside the shop.

"Guinevere. What can I do for you?"

His voice croaked and he hated the awkwardness. He loved her, at least he thought he did, but not yet. The man he was four years ago, the one he was now, had yet to look at the cute maid with interest. And he knew her heart was full of Lancelot. It would always be. It didn't even hurt that much. Strange. Maybe his marriage was just another mistake he had a second chance to correct. Even if it meant spending the rest of his life alone. In a few years, he would meet with pretty princesses, blonde, black-haired, girly or skillful hunters. He was Camelot's Crown Prince, a future king. He could have any woman, for fun or for a lifetime. Any woman, except...

Arthur forced his jaw to unclench. Gwen entered the barn letting the door opened behind her.

"The Lady Morgana wants to know if you'll walk back with us to the Castle."

He suspected Morgana had told her maid to spy on him. She didn't want his escort in the first place, she was less than likely to ask for it for the walk back.

"No. I want another look in here. I'm sorry I have to do that, but-"

Gwen smiled, the twist of lips balancing between hope and sadness.

"Please, do. I hope you'll find what you're looking for. I heard about the… discussion you had with your father. Thank you…"

She approached a little too close for comfort, her doe eyes caressing his face. Arthur moved back. She loved Lancelot, and it was as it had to be. He forced arrogance into his voice.

"Don't mention it. It is my duty to see that justice is served."

To his relief, Gwen nodded and curtsied deeply before she exited.

Outside, a ruffle of silk swished over the pavement. Morgana briskly walked back to the main house to welcome her friend with a frown, faking impatience. That afternoon, she found it hard to complain about Arthur's lack of manners.


	6. Chapter 6 : Fevers

Chapter 6 : Fevers

Arthur stirred to escape the ache in his shoulder, to no avail. He was thirsty and too feeble to open his eyes. One charitable hand helped his head up and water came to his lips like a blessing. One sip was enough to satisfy his needs. Try to squeeze this hand in a thank-you turned its brush into a smile he could feel in the feather touch. The caress lasted until he was nestled into the pillows again. He wished it didn't stop but his protest turned into a moan.

"Shush now… Rest."

The caress of Irish springs and evergreens rolled slightly in the whispered order. He fell back into slumber.

_The red velvet clock slipped aside, revealing the slender body clasped in breech and a white tunic underneath. His tunic. The one she had boldly picked up in his wardrobe because, she claimed, he had ruined the one while teaching her that stupid new sparing move. The tunic was strained with red, the color spreading too fast. "Arthur… I nearly wait…"_

The young man jerked awake. His forehead burned with fever. His throat felt so dried he knew even emptying a river would not stench the thirst. His shoulder hurt like hell. The echo of muffled voices travelled toward him.

"The prince is weakening Sire…"

"You said he was safe! You told us…"

Arthur didn't hear the rest of his father's rant. The sounds were too far away, listening asked too much out of him. His body scorched as if he were tied up by a fire. Breathing was strenuous. A fresh cloth pressed to his lips. He strained up instinctively to keep the contact. Air on his damp skin had him shivered. Arthur fell back in the sheets, unable to resist the gentle push on his chest.

_Crimson floated in the corridor before darkness swallowed it again. What was she doing here? He hurried after the feminine silhouette. Silver flashed in the dark…_

Arthur shook so hard his heart threatened to scatter. His body was tensed like a crossbow. He didn't remember he had ever felt so cold…

"The bed is done Gaius."

"All right. Help me take him out of this ice Merlin…"

"Huh… My Lady…"

In his daze, the voices danced around, disembodied.

"Oh, for God' sake! I'm not looking!"

Two pair of hands grabbed him and pulled. A torrent resounded around him as the chill lost his grip on his body. Blackness invaded his head, promising sleep would make it better. He tried to resist. The pressure on his chest increased. Death lurked in his sleep. Arthur fought. He had promised…

"…Ga…"

"Shush Arthur…"

Warmth replaced cold on his skin. He calmed down, craving for more of the touch, the voice. The world was only cold and hurt. The voice brought comfort. Hope. He wanted to hear that voice chant his name again. _Arthur… Arthur… Arthur…_ Caresses came with the voice soothing the shivers tenderly. His tortured body relaxed slowly, cradled by hushes and murmurs. His head rested on the pillow. He curled into a ball, clutching the blissful hand tight into his.

"Lady Morgana?"

"It's all right, Merlin. I'll stay. I cannot sleep anyway."

Cool fingers brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. Reassured, Arthur let himself drift off.

"Merlin." The servant nodded, beaming like an idiot. Arthur sighed in relief then frowned "Where's Morgana?"

The goofy smile grew at the question. Arthur lied back cautiously, unable to stay upright. The pain in his shoulder was agony. Merlin fussed with soil clothes and phials. The constant jitters increased the nasty pulse in his head to a full-scaled drum. Arthur swallowed.

"Where is Morgana? She was here earlier. I… I know she was."

It had been her touch, and her voice… He really wished the servant stopped grinning like that. He made him feel like a fool.

"We convinced the Lady Morgana to take some rest. Gaius gave her a sleeping draught."

Arthur grunted, trying to push up again. Merlin patted the cushions behind him. The soft slaps made him want to put the servant in the stocks for adding to his misery.

"As if they were effective. What we?"

"Gwen and I."

Gwen. Again. Arthur fell back on the pillows and regretted the abrupt move instantly.

"I need to talk to her."

Merlin looked befuddled.

"Gwen? Why?"

Arthur groaned loudly.

"Not Gwen, Merlin, Morgana. I've seen enough of Guinevere for a lifetime."

"Oh." Merlin frowned. "Well that's harsh. She was worried about you."

He didn't doubt about that. Her worries had started it all.

"Yeah, well..." He was about to excuse himself, and remembered in time this Arthur didn't apologize to anyone, but his father. It seemed he was always apologizing to his father. Merlin was dancing from one foot to another, waiting and visibly ill at ease. At least the man had lost that idiotic smile.

"I want to thank Morgana for her care."

"Oh. Okay."

Arthur ground his teeth when Merlin slammed the door behind him, backing on the pillows with a heavy sigh. He couldn't bear it any longer. Not alone.

Morgana hesitated at the door. When Merlin had literary burst into her chambers to say Arthur was awake, she nearly cried in relief. Her first reflex had been to jump from her bed to go and assess his wellbeing by herself. And then, right after Merlin blushed furiously and Gwen reminded her softly she was in her nightdress, suddenly she realized. What if Arthur remembered that she had warned him not to go after that beast? That he would die if he did? Could she pretend it was just a nightmare, now the prince had miraculously escaped a tragic faith?

Her hand trembled on the knob as she stood there, unable to enter, and even less able to turn tail and flee. The door opened. Morgana jumped back with a whimper. Uther crooked an eyebrow. "Morgana."

Her heart shrunk in her chest. He knew. He knew she flirted with magic. He knew she was a seer, that her dreams were prophetic. The pale eyes roamed over the peacock blue silk of her dress, merciless. The king flinched. Oh God…

The beautiful lady pinched her mouth firmly shut to prevent the terror rising inside her to come out and curtsied, stepping away until her back hit the wall behind her. She stayed there, shivering. The cold stone bit through the thin material of her dress. The cold inside her was even worse.

Uther gazed away. He was looking for guards to arrest her. She was to be jailed, sentenced to death without a hearing, like countless others. It didn't matter to Uther that she was his ward. It only made things worse. He would call her a snake in his breast, a traitor, a witch… Pride jerked up. She wouldn't plead for mercy. She didn't ask for her gift. She resented it. She didn't want the horrors that plagued her dreams every night, the death, the slaughter, and Arthur, always Arthur wounded or dead. Morgana lifted her head up, ready to face her persecutor.

"Uther..."

"Arthur is waiting for you."

And just like that, the king nodded and walked away. Morgana felt her knees weakened and pressed harder to the wall to stay upright. She shook so hard she feared she was to fall nonetheless.

She chanced a look through the door Uther had left open.

Arthur was propped up against his pillows. His handsome face still held the stigmata of illness, too wan for her taste. His golden hair spiked in every possible direction as he bossed someone around, probably Merlin. Breathing hard to calm herself, she strained an ear to listen.

"Merlin put that shirt down, I'm not changing, this is ridiculous."

"You have to look nice, you're receiving for diner."

"I'm not _receiving_, I'm having dinner with Morgana."

"Yes, exactly."

Merlin probably did something she couldn't see, for Arthur groaned.

"What's got into you? Oh fine! Give me the damned thing."

"Yes Sire."

"And stop beaming like that. God, you're useless. Ow…"

The grunt unfroze her from her position. Morgana pushed the door to walk directly to the bed, ignoring Merlin's goofy smile and Arthur's startled look.

"Arthur, you're going to tear this poor shirt apart if you go on pulling at it like this. Quiet now…"

Her fingers tingled when she brushed his hot skin helping him to put the shirt on. Morgana ignored the feeling to concentrate on arranging the garment on his shoulders awkwardly. Her hip bumped into his side. Arthur groused.

"Are you done mothering me? I can dress myself you know…"

The husk in his voice did nothing to appease the butterflies dancing in her belly. She just hoped her cheeks hadn't reddened to the same shade as Arthur's. By the heat on her face, she doubted it.

Morgana inhaled carefully before she retreated to a safer place than his bed. Her legs didn't feel that strong so she took refuge into the chair she had adopted for the last few days.

"Now you are presentable for dinner."

Arthur reopened his eyes to stare at her. His gaze said '_thank you'_, though his mouth was not.

"Eavesdropping, were we?"

Warmth crept up her throat again. Some days, she just hated her skin…

"No need, when you are bawling like you were."

Arthur scoffed. Morgana smiled, satisfied with her little victory, and winked at Merlin who was beaming from ear to ear.

"Merlin, you can serve dinner now. Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7 : words

Chapter 7 : words

The silence worried him, Arthur decided.

Generally, whenever they shared a meal, there was always talking. If Uther granted them his presence, the king used the moment to lecture them about politics and the difficulties to rule a kingdom as big as Camelot. When it was just the two of them, they talked too, idle chitchat about the court, anecdotes about the household, or whatever Arthur felt like complaining about. He ranted childishly about trainings, tournaments, his father, Merlin, whatever he thought made his life miserable, while she listened with a small smile. Sometimes, often, if he was honest, the conversation would turn into banter or a full-scale argument if she found him unfair.

But tonight, Morgana was too calm and he has nothing to say. Or rather, he didn't know how to put into words the images flooding his mind.

Arthur stopped spooning his half-eaten soup to watch the woman in front of him. Now the quiet of the evening had settled in, she looked tired, and also very young. Too young for the secrets she had to arbour alone.

"Morgana, I…"

She looked up, and he fumbled with his food again, before renouncing swallowing more of it. Morgana tilted her head sideways, waiting. If he didn't speak now, he never would.

"I know about the nightmares."

The spoon banged on her bowl when it escaped her fingers, despite her effort to put it down slowly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know Morgana; I have them too, I-"

She jumped on his feet so fast he barely had time to grab her wrist. She pulled away. The yank shot pain up his arm to his shoulder so her name came out like groan.

"Morgana…"

"Please let me go."

"Hear me out. I just want to… I can't stand it anymore, look, I know I've not been the best brother but-"

Her previous panicked look was nothing like the distress that painted on her face. Her eyes paled to the color of green ice. Whatever color her cheeks still held drained away completely.

"Don't say that."

"Morgana, we-"

Her voice cracked up into a shrill close to hysteria.

"No! I'm not your sister! I am not!"

Suddenly, pain and heat assaulted him again. The throb climbed from his hand, still clasped around her wrist to his head. When had he thought telling her the truth could be a good idea? There was hurt in her eyes when he longed to see hope and trust. Arthur was almost relieved when her delicate lids covered the diamonds glittering in her stare. He closed his eyes in turn, searching for a way out; a tease, a prank, anything so she didn't cry and yell at him instead for being so immature. A part of him even wished Merlin said something to help him out the hole he had dung himself into.

The pressure of her lips on his vanished even before he noticed she was leaning on him. By the time he realized she had just kissed him, the door closed on a swish of silk.

Thankfully, Merlin kept his mouth shut. Somehow, the servant looked almost as shocked as Arthur.

That night, he dreamt of places he recognized, and faces he couldn't name. His mind twirled around those images, modeling them into strange shapes, their meaning close to his grasp, and far away every time he tried to concentrate on it. He sprang up every few minutes, never knowing if he was waking up or awake already.

She was still there. Not haunting his dreams, but her kiss branded in his memory. His sister.

The contact on his mouth had disappeared yet he still felt it. She had feelings for him. He cared for her too. Always had. The bond they shared for years, he knew now it was simply their blood recognizing kin. Morgana still mistook it for…what? Crush? Love maybe?

Before he had been blind by Gwen's admiration, he too, had harboured deep feelings for Morgana. He still did. Yet Life had forced the teen lust to bend, turned it into a devouring need to protect her and see her well and happy. Or was more?

She had kissed him. Was it the first kiss had she ever granted to a man? He had been too slow to answer it. He could not, should not answer it. His traitorous mind ventured into forbidden territories, erasing borders of right and wrong.

How would it be, to love her? To have her every night and wake up by her side every morning? No, no he could not think about her that way. They were linked by blood. The Church condemned such abominations. Incest. The word was as ugly as its meaning.

She cared for him, loved him, maybe. He had broken her heart once by choosing Guinevere over her. He refused to robe her of this second chance. If he damned himself, if he doomed her as well, she would hate him one day. One fateful day she would learn the horror of his lies, and hated him as much as she cared for him now.

Beside, Uther knew. His father would not allow such a sin. If Arthur dared suggesting anything like this, the king would put a stop to it. Marry her off. Accuse her of sorcery, of corrupting his only son, when in fact it would be the son… Uther, always Uther, was the one to shadow her light. His hatred of magic put Morgana in jeopardy for a gift she hadn't asked for. His adultery had brought life to both of them, separate them like doomed lovers. Uther would crush her down without pity.

Arthur's eyes shot open. He took a deep breath to calm his heart. The air had the taste of High-Treason. He moved to grab his goblet and jerked.

"What are you doing here?"

With her hair undone flowing over her nightdress, ebony on ivory, she looked like a fallen angel. The dying fire casted lights and shadows over her mouth.

"I couldn't sleep."

Arthur drained his drink in one gulp. Her feet were tugged under her on the chair, her arms around her knees. She was probably cold. He thought of inviting her in, the bed was warmth and large enough for both of them. Her radiant stare emptied his head when he turned to face him. She had kissed him…

"Can we forget about it?"

Half his brain sighed in relief. The other part screamed 'no!', loud enough to startle him.

"You probably never considered me that way, and-"

"I did! I do… I…" The light in her eyes submitted the last of his sanity. "I…"

Her smile had the beauty of the Original Sin. Arthur swallowed. She looked young, and far too trusting; a virgin goddess unaware of the malignancy lurking around her, ready to take away her innocence.

"You surprised me, that's all."

Morgana considered his reply, her cheek on her knees. Arthur struggled to find some way out. He had to before…

"My father might not agree to…"

Courting his own sister, was that how he would protect her? Wicked. Twisted. So wrong. So…

"Let's not ask for his permission, then…"

Tempting. Morgana stood gracefully and the knot in his stomach invaded his throat too. Maybe talking to his father was the best idea, before he condemned her soul himself. He pushed his covers away.

"I'll escort you back to your room."

"Oh no, you won't."

She was quicker than he and Arthur fell back into the pillows. She was close enough for their noses to brush. He tried to focus on the voice in his head, to prevent it from quietening as she tugged the sheets around him.

"I was able to sneak myself in, I can see myself out just the same. I won't allow you to treat me like a useless puppet just because…"

Arthur finally managed a smile, not quite his trademark smirk, but close enough.

"Just because you like me?"

"Did I ever say that? Good night, Arthur."

Her fingers escaped his hand. This time, sleep came easier. And with it, the nightmare returned.


	8. Chapter 8 : hesitation

Chapter 8 : hesitation

Her eyes caught a glimpse of golden hair and crimson, and Morgana cringed between two columns, out of sight. It'd been weeks since she made the worst mistake of her life. She always was a magnet for trouble, contradicting Uther in public or disobeying the king's orders, but kissing Arthur… Kissing Arthur had been bliss, and doom. He barely stood to be in her presence now. Whatever feelings she had imagined he sustained while he was confined to his sick-bed were long gone.

The very next day after her… misstep, the prince had informed Gaius that he felt perfectly well, and went back to his usual activities on shaky legs. Protests had fallen into a deaf ear. Uther had grunted "about time" and dismissed the physician's concern when asked to interfere. The king despised weakness above all, without regards to the one suffering. Morgana hadn't dared trying to talk her prince out of it. Nor did she dare visiting him in the evenings anymore. He didn't want her there, or anywhere near him; that was plain and painfully simple. Until they both forgot, not breathing the same air than Arthur was best.

Morgana clenched her jaw and fisted her skirts, readying to resume her walk.

"Unless Merlin convinced you to play hide and seek with Leon, I would say you are trying to avoid me."

Her pride rebelled at his tone.

"Of course not. Beside, Leon wears his hair lon-"

She bit her tongue, annoyed with the easiness he set her off. Green eyes shot up to meet Arthur's smirk.

Being out had brought a slight tan to his face. The hunch from his sick days was gone. He stood with one thumb tugged into his belt, smug as ever. Yet his eyes…

"Really."

His eyes sang a less arrogant tune. Her heart squeezed in reproach when she replied.

"You are so full of yourself. If I had a head for it, _that _would be more than a good reason to… How did you put it? Oh, yes. Avoid you."

Morgana didn't wait for an answer before she started down the corridor. Her back was so rigid it hurt. Arthur snatched her wrist.

"We need to talk."

She gulped. Her pulse bounced under his palm. She yanked free before he noticed. It hurt to be away from his touch. Being rejected hurt even more.

"I have nothing to say."

"I do. But not here."

Arthur cast a glance above his shoulder. Taken aback, Morgana followed his gaze, seeing nothing but the empty courtyard. He always found a way to throw her of balance. Damned him.

"Where then?"

She hated herself to sound so _interested_. She was angry with Arthur. He deceived her. He bro… bruised her heart. She refused to be yet another toy he used when fancy took him to play and discarded when he fed up. Arthur smiled and she wet her lips in anticipation. The man be damned, he was too handsome to resist...

"My horse needs some exercise."

Morgana barely retained a very unladylike squeal of delight, temper gone. Ever since that despicable kidnapping attempt, Uther refused to let her outside the castle without a solid guard around her. She still wondered what had pushed Arthur to come after her with Leon that day… If he hadn't… She sighed. The dozen knights Uther attached to her tail now spoiled the pleasure of her rides, so she had stopped asking. But if Arthur himself escorted her, it would be just the two of them…

"I take your beam for a yes?"

Morgana tried to sober herself and glowered, yet it was hard to remember why she resented him a moment ago. She bobbed her head, accepting his arm.

"I'd like that."

"All right then. We'll picnic."

Her hand froze on his elbow. Did he say picnic?

The invitation had put her on the edge, Arthur could tell. She was pleased to be out of the castle, galloping freely against the wind. Yet she glimpsed over her shoulder every so often. The quick smile she flashed each time looked more nervous than thankful.

He didn't try to race her, though his mount longed to prove itself against hers. He was too tired even to try. He hid it well, but training exhausted him. Rest eluded him at nights, or when his chores allowed him a few hours to nap. His dreams were all filled with Morgana. He failed to say which ones were worse, those were she was stabbed and died in his arms, or the ones where his father caught them _together_. When they occurred, the latters were so vivid _he_ avoided her at all cost. It took all his might not to touch her… Her chaste kisses would not soothe the boil in his blood this time.

Arthur pulled on the reins.

"Morgana!"

She pirouetted so her long braid danced in the wind. She was so beautiful… She stole his breath away. She deserved the truth, before he succumbed to the temptation.

"Let's go uphill, under the great oak."

The centennial tree was their favourite playground as children. Teens, they had exchanged secrets under its roof. The solid tree up the hill was their refuge. They never battled there. It was a place for patience, and trust.

"All right."

He let her lead the way, following at a slower pace. Here, summer was yet to burn the grass. The breeze cooled the air. Arthur breathed deeply, feeling quieter already. Maybe here he would manage to grab some sleep...

Morgana dismounted. She had tied the rein to a lower branch by the time he reached their favourite spot. She too seemed more at ease, even a little curious. Her nose cringed when he took a package out of his saddle's holster. Arthur unwrapped two small pies, some fruits and a bottle of light mead. For once, Merlin had apparently managed to follow his orders.

He spread a cover on the ground.

"My lady…"

The words brought back wariness in her stare. Morgana sat down gracefully nonetheless, inviting him to join her with a pat of her hand. Her smile waned as soon as he obeyed.

"I know what you are about to say, I-"

"Morgana be quiet."

Her mouth closed into an adorable O, her eyes wide. Arthur forced himself to keep his stare locked with hers.

"For once, I'll speak first."


	9. Chapter 9 : revelations

Chapter 9 : revelations

She slapped him. When she lifted her hand a second time, Arthur caught her forearm and embraced her. Morgana wriggled to get free so he tightened his hold. She was trembling. In real furor or fear, he could not tell.

He leaned against the tree, wrapping his cloak around them. The intimacy felt good. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. His intention to soothe her swayed. The shift had little to do with her quieter breathing, and a lot to do with her curves pressed to the plates and angles of his chest. She felt like home.

Arthur brushed her hair, condemned to keep the caress light. After what felt like an eternity, she asked, "when?".

She believed every word. He knew she would. Morgana believed in magic. He hoped she still believed in him.

"It doesn't matter. I won't let it happen this time, I promise."

He would not let her turn to the dark side. And he would not let her die.

Morgana fidgeted in his arms to look at him.

"Tell me when."

Her order brushed his cheek. She always had had a way to boss him around and make him like it. Arthur closed his eyes, looking for a proper answer. The where and when blurred a little more every day.

Morgana jittered again.

"What if you cannot prevent it? Maybe I have to die, so you can-"

The last word disappeared in a murmur. Arthur felt her jaw clench against his collarbone. She was brave. She was as brave as he was. Braver, maybe. He would never have managed to endure the pain and loneliness he had forced upon her. He wished he could find a way to make up for it. Though everything she wanted, he took from her, again and again. He hated himself.

"Arthur?"

"Tell me about your dreams."

A change of topic was the best he could hope for.

"I-"

Morgana clasped her mouth shut abruptly. Despite his arms around her and the thick cloak covering them, she felt cold. She wanted to speak out the terrors that plagued her nights. She didn't dare. How could she burden Arthur with that secret? He had given so much already… He had confirmed she had magic. If his father discovered… Uther. _Their_ father.

The grip around her throat squeezed harder. This time, she couldn't shake it off. Morgana started trembling. The tears in her eyes burnt, as much as the need to bite and wail. Arthur felt it and hugged her even tighter.

"I hate him."

Her tears welled.

"I hate him. I want to see him dead."

"Don't say that…Morgana, please don't say that…"

She heard the pain in his plea, felt it in the kiss he pressed in her hair. It crushed the pieces of her heart that were still intact. She lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Were you happy? Back then? With…"

She couldn't say it. He married Gwen. Not her, but her maid. She was his… She clenched her hands into fists.

Arthur considered her question for a heartbeat before he simply answered, "no".

He kissed her wet cheek, drying her tears. Heat crept up her throat. A brother would be allowed to embrace her the way he was. But he wasn't quite that; not yet. '_Not ever' _murmured a voice in her head. That voice seemed to come from her blood, and her flesh, and her bones.

Ill at ease, Morgana wriggled off his lap with the excuse to reach for the food they had barely touched. The pie topping tasted like cinders on her tongue.

"Tell me what you've changed."

A tiny, foolish part of her wished his actions had modified the past as much as the future. Arthur sighed heavily. The motion attracted her eyes to his chest. '_Foolish, foolish Morgana…' _She forced her stare away.

"I don't know, not exactly." He cringed his nose. "At the beginning, everything was so clear, who I am, who I was… But now it blurs. I remember things that didn't happen, or maybe they were just dreams, I don't know…"

Arthur rubbed his face in confusion. Morgana wrapped one arm around his shoulders, returning the comfort he had offered earlier. She used to do that when they were children, and Arthur was the one plagued with bad dreams. Now it felt different when he pressed his face in her hair.

"I let you down. All those years, I pretended I was fighting for the Greater Good. I acted as if I was the perfect knight, the perfect prince, the perfect king. But I am not. I'm far from being perfect. I'm stubborn and selfish-"

Morgana put one finger on his lips to interrupt his monologue.

"You're not so selfish…"

He shoved her hand away and stood. Sarcasm dripped from every word.

"Do you really think so? I came back so I had a chance to correct my mistakes, so _I_ had a second chance so _I_ could have you back."

Arthur grabbed her by the arms, nearly shouting in her face. His anger burned the angst that filled her heart by the hour since he said... Morgana breathed in deeply.

"That's a sweet thing to say, Arthur, but you're wrong."

Taken aback, he released her. His gaze narrowed dangerously as he waited for an explanation for her statement. Morgana bent her head to the side.

"You were sent back so _we _could have another chance to make things right."

She lifted one eyebrow, daring him to contradict her.

Arthur growled, "I didn't tell you the truth so that you endanger yourself."

She brushed the comment aside impatiently.

"I helped you before and I will do so again. I am certainly not going to stay put while you're having all the fun."

"Fun?"

His teeth gritted. Morgana offered one of those smiles he had learnt to distrust a long time ago: the ones that said he could protest and tempest all his will, she would have her way no matter what. Arthur scowled.

Surprisingly, the beautiful lady accepted his surrender without her customary smirk. She nodded, and then knelt to gather the vestiges of their picnic. Her hand quivered when she arranged the rucksack. Arthur reached to help her stand. She said, "I wish we could tell someone…"

Arthur pressed her hand with all the reassurance he could muster. Morgana's stare vibrated with fears she refused to speak out loud. He cleared his throat.

"Surely I will think of something."

Her immense eyes shone with pride.

"I know you will."

She trusted him. That was all he needed to move forward.


	10. Chapter 10 : new beginnings

**A/N: It took me a while to update, because the plotline wasn't fully to my liking. From now on, it will differ more and more from the TV show. Don't be surprised in characters show up too soon, compared to the series timeline. After all, Arthur did change a couple of things...**

* * *

><p>Chapter 10 : new beginnings<p>

In the following weeks, the rift between them seemed to close. They took in the habit of sharing tea or a meal, not every day, but often. Morgana coerced Arthur into telling her about the memories he still had. She laughed to tears about some malicious force that made Uther bald and created havoc in the castle, and the troll who wanted to be queen and enchanted the king. However, she suspected Arthur kept some details to himself about his own misadventures.

Arthur told her about a quest for the Fisher King trident, and about his knights. Pride and fondness shone in his voice as he named Leon, and other men she didn't know, Percival and Gwaine. He even talked about Lancelot.

The mention of the dark hair man and everything related to Gwen always brought a painful fog to his stare so Morgana didn't ask. Curiosity and a tad of jealousy burned the tip of her tongue each time they neared the subject or when she caught Arthur's awkwardness on the rare occasions he had to talk to her maid. Fortunately, Merlin seemed more than happy to serve as a messenger.

Morgana watched the dark courtyard as Gwen arranged her bed, folding a second duvet at the feet of the four poster bed. The nights grew colder quickly now that September had cast its cloak on the realm. Yet, she felt warm, a little too hot, even.

"… since he'd been ill."

Her skin prickled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

Gwen chuckled.

"Nothing, my lady. Did you have a pleasant diner with Prince Arthur?"

Morgana did her best to swallow an unkind remark about nosiness. Gwen wasn't at fault, well, not fully. Morgana just wished things were different, that she could be the one ma-

"My lady?"

"Yes. Yes, it was nice. I probably had too much wine. I feel too weary to sleep now. Please leave the candle on the nightstand burning. I will read a chapter or two."

"Of course my lady. Sweet dreams."

Morgana forced herself to smile in return for the good night wishes. Her heart jolted as the door locked behind her maid. The tingle on her arms changed into goose bumps. She was feverish, hot from head to toe, so that the floor felt icy through the thin pole of her mules. Reaching the bed exhausted her. Despite what she had told to Gwen, she desperately wanted to close her eyes and sleep. Only she didn't want to be in the dark. Her stomach churned. As much as she wished it was only too strong alcohol on the spicy venison, Morgana knew better.

The dream imprisoned her lungs in an iron net. She tried to breathe and choked. The scene played over and over before her eyes, inescapable. She wanted to scream, to stop Arthur from killing the prisoner kneeling in front of him, but her voice dies in her throat each time. Suddenly, she was flying, a trembling leaf above the plain. The ground was crimson and silver. The flags whipped the air around her, pushing her away from the clash of swords. Her imaginary lungs filled with dread. Fire nagged at Camelot peaceful fields. It engulfed everything, lapping at her ghost. Her warnings melt into moans. "No… No Arthur, don't… No don't… Don't, don't!"

Her murmurs became liquid then her tears exploded in a deafening scream as pain and heat ravaged her very soul.

Morgana shot upright on her bed. Flames devoured the curtains around her. The gush of cold air that hissed through the shattered windows fueled the fire. This time, her scream echoed in the room. Too shaken to move, she stared helplessly at the burning shower cornering her.

"Morgana!"

Uther's voice boomed, followed by heavy poundings on her door. She couldn't look away from the flames. The bangs outside were muffled by the pulse of her own blood in her veins. Morgana rocked hypnotically, her fists clenched on the coverlet.

"Arthur… Arthur… Don't kill him, please don't…"

"Morgana!"

Suddenly, the ghostly forms around her hardened. The blazing fabric was torn away. Water sizzled on the floor as someone drenched the fire. Two masculine figures shielded her from a third, the one she was dying to see.

"Morgana, are you all right?"

Gaius answered the king's question.

"She's in shock, Sire. Here, my dear…"

An astringent smell stung her nose. She shivered, abruptly shaken back to reality.

"I…"

Did they hear her calls for Arthur's mercy? Two pairs of eyes, one demanding, the other concerned, required explanations. One blue stare offered solace above the physician's shoulders. She asked, "What happened?"

Arthur stepped forward. Uther brushed him off, turning away, satisfied to see her coherent at last.

"Sorcery. We've been too lenient, and my ward was attacked. I want this vermin eradicate. Arthur, do I make myself clear?"

Morgana trembled violently. She was the vermin. She had magic. Gaius wrapped a cover around her shoulders with a gentle pat on her arm. Arthur answered, his stare never leaving hers. He would protect her. He had promised…

"Yes father. If I may, Morgana should rest in my chambers for the night. I'll guard her."

"Fine. Fine."

Uninterested with trivial details, the king approached the bed to kiss her cold forehead. Morgana forced herself not to cringe away from him. Oblivious, he exited the room, followed by the guards.

Gaius touched her cheeks.

"Can you walk, dear?"

"No need."

Arthur scooped her up with her covers.

"Merlin! Go fetch some hot tea. Gaius, I'll call you if need be."

The old man knit his brows, but bowed to his prince.

"Yes Sire."

Morgana wriggled in his arms. Arthur adjusted his hold, carrying her toward his quarters.

"Arthur…"

"Shush. We're nearly there."

She understood his warning and nestled against his chest. Cradled by his arms, her heart finally agreed to slow down. He believed in her gift. He would listen. She wasn't alone anymore…

"Do you want that Merlin to change the sheets?"

"No, no it's fine…"

The linens she had pulled to her nose smelled like him. The scent soothed and thrilled her. Morgana blushed and straightened up in the bed. Arthur was watching her like a hawk. She outreached one hand, anxious to fill his. The silent comfort lengthened, only troubled by the light crackling from the chimney. Morgana attempted a tiny smile.

Merlin chose that moment to barge in.

"Tea with a cloud of milk. Gaius said to drink the potion with the tea… Oops, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

Arthur took the tray with his right hand. He used his left to grab his servant by the collar and marched him back to the door.

"Yes, you are. Good night, Merlin."

Morgana chuckled.

"Poor Merlin, he was just trying to be nice…"

"No, he was trying to put his nose where it does not belong."

Arthur discarded Gaius' sleeping draught and brought her cup to the lady in his bed.

"Here."

"Thank you."

She took a tentative sip while he settled at her feet, his back against one poster to face her. Morgana put the tea aside.

"Can you…"

Arthur moved around before she finished her sentence. She rested her head on his chest, reassured to feel his warmth against her skin.

After a moment, he said, "it happened last time, too. I remember about it. Two days later, you disappeared and I found you in the forest in a druid camp. We thought they had kidnapped you…"

Morgana snuggled closer.

"I don't think they had…"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. Tell me what you saw. If you're ready that is…"

The asking rasped on his tongue. She appreciated the effort Arthur made to overcome his prejudice against magic. He did it for her. The least she could do was answering.

"You killed a man, a prisoner. But he was a powerful king, and it started a war."

Arthur froze. He pushed up to face her, very pale.

"I did, I mean, it happened. I could say I was ill counseled, but in the end, I was the one who…"

Morgana's stare shut him up. She cuddled back into his arms, but this time her warmth did nothing to ease the guilt that bored deep in his bones. He had made so many mistakes…

"When did it happen?"

She asked that so often filling the gaps between the fragments of his memory was almost easy.

"Within the first year I was king, I think … Yes, it was the first winter after my coronation. Three, no, four years from now…"

He trailed off as Morgana closed her eyes. She frowned in concentration. Something felt out of place. A detail, insignificant in appearance, was missing. Arthur stroked the back of her arm, lulling her into sleep. Her mind refused to yield to exhaustion.

"You should rest, now. I'm not king so we have time to-"

"The dragon!"

"What?"

"The dragon on your shield on the battlefield, it wore no crown!"

Only the reigning Pendragon was entitled to paint a crown on his coat-of-arms. His hand clutched her elbow in a painful grip.

"Are you sure?"

Morgana nodded.

"Yes. I saw it. The dragon was uncrowned."

He took a sharp intake of air. It would happen again. However hard he tried, he would repeat the same mistakes, and fail... Fear sunk deep inside him, its chilly grip squeezing his heart until it bled.


	11. Chapter 11 : fog of wars

Chapter 11 : Fog of wars

The royal retinues filled half of the courtyard. Uther stood on the steps as usual with Arthur on his right, and Morgana on his left. The knights and Camelot's court patched the stones with crimson and gold. Facing them, the whites and pearly greys of the newcomers were almost blinding.

"King Caerleon, Queen Annis, welcome to Camelot. My son, Arthur Pendragon, Crowned Prince of Camelot."

Arthur forced his lungs to fill and exhaled. Caerleon and Annis. Here.

Images invaded his brain : the fallen king on his knees, his sword gleaming in his hand, the fear in Morgana's eyes as she begged him to avoid a war… Uther rattled about peace and commercial treaties. Arthur only saw the grey-beard man and his regal queen.

Annis held her head as proudly as he remembered. Her eyes caught his, and she smiled. He hesitated to reciprocate. Her eyes shifted to his left. He finally noticed Uther had finished his speech. Caerleon's answer had escaped him as well. A pregnant silence fell on the courtyard. One minute went by, then other. Merlin fidgeted in his back. None of the royals moved.

On an impulse, Arthur climbed down two steps. He turned to offer his hand to Morgana. A murmur followed his gesture. She gawped, quickly recovering and taking his to step forward.

"Your Highnesses, please meet the Lady Morgana of Cornwall."

More excited gasps ran in the crowd gathered around the yard. Morgana flushed then fumbled with her skirts an instant before she curtsied expertly. The Queen, who had lifted one brow at the display, smiled fondly.

"I'm delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Morgana. Your parents were dear friends of us."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Morgana bowed her head gracefully. A silhouette parted Caerleon's knights to access the front row. Arthur tightened his grip on Morgana's elbow.

"Actually, Uther, the children both took after their mothers don't you think?"

"Agravaine."

The King stepped in. His large form masked both Arthur and Morgana, shielding them from Agravaine's probing dark stare.

"I didn't expect you to be back in Camelot so soon."

His brother-in-law sneered.

"I must say the last twenty-four years went by in a flash."

The air crackled with anger as the two men faced each other. Arthur eyed the knights around, weighing the odds. At the moment, Camelot's knights were outnumbered, but…

Morgana recovered first. She untangled herself from Arthur to approach their guests.

"Queen Annis, you are probably tired after your long journey, may I show you to your rooms?"

"Yes, a rest would be welcome, thank you dear child."

Tension decreased a notch or two. Finally, with an imperious bow of her head, Annis signaled her retinue to disband. She took Morgana's arm and marched inside the castle, with Caerleon and Agravaine on their tails.

Arthur was about to follow suite when his father stopped him.

"I want to talk to you."

"But… Yes father. Of course. Give me just a minute."

The king muttered under his breath but gestured him to proceed. Arthur hissed, "Merlin!"

Sure enough, the servant tumbled forward.

"Sire?"

"I want you to assist the lady Morgana with her duties all day. Don't leave her side until she retires to prepare for the feast, understood?"

"Huh…"

"Now, Merlin."

"Yes Sire."

His friend thankfully stopped protesting and hurried inside. Arthur spotted Leon by the large door. He joined him in two strides.

"Go and make sure Merlin does not embarrass himself, will you? And keep a keen eye on my uncle. I-"

"Arthur!"

The prince cringed at the call. Leon winked and went after Merlin and Morgana. At least the tall knight would protect her if-

"Do you realize what you did?"

Uther's snarl cut through his line of thoughts.

"Father?"

"Only members of the family or very _special_ persons are presented by the Crowned Prince to royal guests. Given that Morgana is only my ward, you just proclaim to the world that she… has your interest."

The king spat the last words. His lips were pursed in a stern line. Arthur breathed slowly, looking for the proper answer.

"Morgana is part of the family, father."

Uther's eyes flashed dangerously. He backpedaled, hating himself for being such a coward when his father was concerned. Now would have been the perfect moment to tear the truth out of the king. He simply couldn't.

Instead, Arthur declared, "I mean we grew up together. She has been by my side for as long as I can remember. She runs the household; she chairs tournaments and feasts as if she was the first lady of Camelot. She knows the kingdom as well as I do. She cares for the people and the small folks adore her. She would make a beautiful-"

"I admit her looks can be… bewitching."

Arthur tensed as the emphasis his father put on the last word.

"Just like her mother's."

He liked this last statement even less. Uther turned away to watch the lads guide the last horses to the stables. Arthur gulped, out of breath. This was the moment he had dread for months finally. The confirmation…

"You will inform Morgana she will seat by Agravaine at the feast."

"What? No!"

This was worst that the truth he expected.

Uther faced his son with a menacing frown. Arthur clenched his fists into a tight fist.

"I don't trust him!"

"Neither do I. Which is precisely why I want him distracted while I'll talk to Caerleon tonight."

The way his father worded 'distracted' sank like a brick in Arthur's stomach. He straightened up, uncaring about the people starting to stare at their contest.

"I refuse to let Morgana-"

"Lower your tone, Arthur."

Uther stepped closer. His father dominated him by two solid inches. He was broader, and he wore the royal crown. Arthur didn't budge. One gloved hand rose in the air. For a second, he feared his father was to strike him. Then the hand clasped hard on his shoulder. Pain travelled down his side, jaw-clenching.

"You still have a lot to learn about politics, and women. Do as I say and don't worry. Morgana will be fine."

Uther squeezed his fingers. Arthur couldn't help but wince.

"You still have time to think about such things anyway. Enjoy life and your status. Discreetly."

Arthur flushed a deep red. Did his father just suggest?... He wouldn't would he?

"Father, if I… if I petitioned you for… Would you consent to…"

He didn't dare formulate his question properly. Some irrational hope echoed with each heartbeat. Uther seemed only concern with keeping gossip away, maybe…

The chuckle that followed was so unlike his father the tight knot around his throat tightened.

Without a proper answer, Arthur preferred changing the subject to more urgent and equally disturbing matters.

"Father, what happened twenty-four years ago?"

He was twenty-two, Morgana only a handful of months younger. Who was concerned by his father and uncle fall apart? Himself? Her?

Amusement had vanished from the king's clear eyes.

"That's nothing of your concern."

"My uncle appears out of nowhere to threaten you. It _is_ my concern."

"This is not a conversation to have in the middle of the courtyard."

The king stormed inside the castle. Arthur sneered. As if marital discussion and plotting about using his ward as bait were suitable for courtyard's conversations…

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks a lot for the reviews and questions :) I love answering (and/or keeping you on your toes)... I adore the new angle, and I can't wait to see what you think. I hope to post two new chapters this weekend! Hit the button and feed the muse!**


	12. Chapter 12 : in Love and War

Chapter 12 : in Love and War…

Morgana slammed the door behind her.

"How dared he? In front of the whole court, and Uther! And now that!"

She paced the room as she ranted, whiping the tables and her dresser clean with the back of her hand. Gwen rescued a hand-mirror in extremis.

"My lady? What is it?"

"Idiot! Arrogant prat! I'm going to kill him. He sweet-talks me into his mad sibling schemes, and then…"

"My lady, you love that vase. Please…"

The maid collected the delicate piece of porcelain from her mistress trembling hands, one heartbeat before she smashed it on the floor.

"Calm down, tell me what is the matter."

Morgana hissed, "Arthur! Arthur is the matter. Who else? Who would humiliate me in such a way?!"

"Oh."

Gwen chanced a tiny smile. Morgana's tantrums toward the man came and went like lightning storms in summer. One moment she felt like murdering him, and the next she mooned after the handsome prince. That was nothing new.

The beautiful lady stomped her foot. The vase on the table trembled again. All right, maybe that one would last a little longer…

"You saw what he did, you were there! He pulled rank over me in front of the whole court to see, as if I was some… some trophy for his bedpost!"

Gwen circled the infuriated woman to reach the corner Morgana used for her toilet. The towels near the bath tub were ready. The water was still too hot, but it would be perfect by the time Morgana calmed down enough to remember she had to prepare for the feast.

"What are people going to think? And Uther? Uther will never consent… My God, he was probably horrified! His son and his-"

She shut up abruptly to glare at Gwen.

"What did you hear? Do people gossip already?"

"Oh no, my lady…"

To be honest, Gwen was too happy Arthur had finally acknowledged his attraction to really listen to the cooks, and the guards, and the other maids, and the occasional nobles she came across in the corridors. She remembered elbowing Merlin after he engaged Leon in a bet about how long would it take before the prince antagonized the beautiful ward… Maybe she should have put a penny in that one…

Morgana bit the inner side of her cheek. The physical pain cleared her head a bit though she was still furious with Arthur. Furious and hurt. Why had he done that? He knew they couldn't… Arthur could not be hers, and his behavior had made sure no man in his right mind would dare approach her, if by some miracle she could convince her heart to beat for someone else. _That_ was selfish, and cruel and…

She swallowed back unwanted tears. Not only he played with her feelings, but he had ordered Merlin to shadow her every steps all day long, and Leon to follow Merlin just in case the poor man made a fool of himself. Did he think she needed supervision?

And now, the rat dared tell her she was to escort _his uncle_ for diner. Insufferable, arrogant,…

Morgana clenched her jaw firmly. Two could play this game. If he wanted to torture her, she would make sure she would not be the only one to suffer.

"I'll wear my red dress, Gwen. The one with the golden leaf belt."

"My lady?"

Maybe the sleeveless dress was a little light for the late season. She snapped, "You heard me."

"Yes my lady; I'll have it ready."

The water rushed around Morgana's lithe body when she entered the tub. The fitting satin had every male salivate after her like hound dogs. And the prince was not better. She smirked. Arthur deserved to be reminded he had no claim over her. Her heart squeezed at the thought. She dismissed it, slipping backward in the tub to rinse her hair. She intended to enjoy every minute of that feast. What other choice did she have?

Agravaine was even creepier after a couple of drinks. His hair, that he tried to wear sleeked back, dripped before his face in greasy strands. He leaned too close to talk to her, and occasionally brushed his hand on her bare upper arm.

After his fourth attempt, she had sent Gwen to her chambers for her ermine, and draped the thick fur around her shoulders and chest. It spoiled the effect of the dress, but at least the man could not grope her any longer. Or so she thought until she felt fingers touching her knee under the table.

Morgana pushed away with the most irate hiss she could muster without alerting the whole room. Her glare met with eyes as dark as they were lecherous. The man had no restraint! She cast a glimpse around the table. Uther was in deep conversation with his peers. Arthur focused his scowl on his cup. His face was grim enough to sour wine.

The jerk hadn't muttered a word or even look at her since paying his respects. His jaw was clenched so hard when he watched her move away she would have sworn she had heard his teeth gritting. So much for leaving him panting. Morgana sighed. The evening was a complete disaster.

"As beautiful as your mother, you are…"

Alcohol had the ruffian's tongue slur. Everything about him was disturbing. The venturous hand squeezed her knee again. Morgana jolted in surprise and stood, quickly jumping out of reach.

"My lord!"

All eyes turned toward her, Arthur's including. He looked just as inebriated as his uncle. She lowered her gaze coyly.

"I… I'm very tired and I fear I'm not of company tonight. I will retire if your highnesses allow me…"

Uther gave a short nod. Caerleon and the queen smiled. For a second, she thought Annis was murmuring an apology for bringing the wolf to their table.

"I'll escort you to your rooms."

Arthur crowded her space. Her heart raced a little faster. Couldn't he let her be, just for a day? What would people think if… Anger colored her cheeks, but she kept her voice even.

"It won't be necessary, my prince. Don't trouble yourself."

"I insist."

He grabbed her elbow before she could protest further, nearly tugging her out of the room. Conversation buzzed quietly again even before the door close on them. Morgana pulled her arm free, starting down the corridor without waiting. Arthur fell into steps with her easily. She thought very hard about using her high heels on his foot. She hissed, "I'm not a bitch you need to keep on a tight leash, _my lord_."

"Stop that, Morgana. What did he do?"

Unsettled by his growl, she stopped to face him. His blue eyes were heavy, but he didn't sound drunk. If anything, he looked hurt and angry. Both emotions she knew very well. Morgana crossed her arms under her chest with a defiant stare.

"He acted as any healthy male would around me: forward."

Arthur' scowl deepened at the attack on his manhood.

"That's what you get for parading your charms like a… like that. I tried to protect you earlier but of course you had to-"

"Liar!"

Her gaze seethed with fury.

"You didn't even know that worm was there! You… You…"

Ire forbad any coherent speech. A tired servant hurried by them with candles for the guests rooms. Arthur grabbed her again to push her inside her own chambers. Three strides took him to the backdoor that he locked in turn.

"Gwen can use the front door, I won't gamble with your safety."

"Arthur!"

The crash on the floor finally got his attention. He smirked.

"Morgana, you loved that vase."

"I don't care! Stop acting like a caveman! Just answer my questions! Why-"

"He killed you."

The prince slopped in a chair. Instantly deflated, Morgana knelt on the floor next to him, her ermine slipping down her arms. She touched his hand gently, inviting him to open up. Arthur gripped her fingers into his.

"It happened _before_. He pretended to be our friend, but he betrayed us both. He sat at my council, playing me with fatherly smiles and false advices while spying for you. But he was plotting against you too, and when you failed to take Camelot…"

Morgana shivered. Arthur stood, helping her up and guiding her toward the bed. She refused the shawl he wanted to put on her shoulders. She murmured, "So Agravaine killed me?"

"Yes. But that's not all. I had another nightmare."

"Tell me."

She tried not to panic while he explained about confused images of a shadowy Annis pulling her in stony corridors. Morgana smiled despite her fear.

"And you thought that putting on such a show in front of the whole Court is going to prevent that?"

"I wanted them to know that you're under my protection."

He did what he could to protect her, whatever ridiculous or possessive it was. That was why she loved him so much. Morgana silenced the sneering voice in her head saying she was the king ward, and under Uther Pendragon's protection. Uther would ask his men to go if his ward was kidnapped. But the same men would follow Arthur to Hell and back without him asking. Morgana leaned on him to kiss his cheek, all resentment gone.

"My champion."

Arthur embraced her.

They held each other in silence for a moment, savoring the peace. Finally, she sighed, "I liked that vase. You have to buy me another one."

"What need did you have to break it? You could have just-"

"Arthur."

Morgana pressed her hand to his mouth. Arthur grinned under her gag. Morgana tried to keep a stern face.

"You'll buy me a new vase."

He nodded, still grinning.

"And flowers to put in it."

Another nod.

"And you will take me to the Harvest Festival."

He shifted his weight slightly on the bed, but nodded.

This was too easy. She frowned in concentration. Before she could formulate another demand, Arthur launched a tickling assault on her sides. Morgana squealed. She tried to escape but he had trapped her between his chest and the head of the bed. Laughing and panting, she writhed on the pillows, finally freeing herself.

Breathing hard, she turned to face her tormentor. His blue eyes had darkened and followed her moves like a hunter a prey. Morgana swallowed. She half-expected him to pounce back on her for another attack. Instead, Arthur closed the distance between them slowly, never releasing her gaze. Fascinated by the cobalt sparks flaring in his eyes, she threw right and wrong to the wind and met him halfway.

The kiss was everything she had always wanted it to be: patient and demanding, sweet and hot. His tongue molded against hers, stealing every nerve in her body. Her blood raced under her skin as he caressed her hair, ruining her hairdo. Her bones melted so that she had to lean back, taking her with him. When Arthur finally allowed her to breathe, air felt cold and unwelcome.

He straightened up.

"I… I have to go."

She wished he stayed. She knew he couldn't. Morgana forced her swollen lips to smile despite the chill.

"You still own me a vase. And flowers…"

Arthur winked and escaped before she remembered his promise to take her to the festival.


	13. Chapter 13 : new friends, new threats

Chapter 13 : new friends, new threats

For the first time in years, Arthur woke up perfectly happy.

His head pounded from the hangover. Agravaine was plotting somewhere in the castle again. His father was certainly to lecture him again for not returning to the feast. He had taken the road that might lead to damnation, his, and Morgana's. But frankly, he didn't give a damn.

Kissing her was the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. _She_ was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Nothing could spoil his mood today, not even…

"Merlin, what happened to you?"

"Huh… Nothing?"

"You have a black eye, Merlin."

"Ah. Well…"

Arthur pushed his plate away, grabbing his servant by the arm to make him sit.

"_Mer_-lin…"

"I kind of… went to the tavern after you left, and… well, it wasn't my fault, I just tried to…"

"You were involved in a brawl?"

Arthur shook his head, unsure if he should laugh or worry.

"Well, he helped, but some brute hit him with a stool, and then…"

"Who helped?"

Noises erupted in the corridor, grunts escorted by more feminine sounds. Arthur jumped on his feet.

When he opened the door, his good mood melted like snow in a hot spring day. He knew the scruffy face, and brown hair a little too long to be fashionable. But Gwaine was not alone. In fact, the woman he was leaning on was very very familiar.

"What are you doing here?"

Morgana tried to make the future knight to straighten up, without too much help on his part. The man was clearly enjoying being handled by the dark-hair beauty. His hand slipped nonchalantly to her waist. Arthur fought an urge to punch the smug smile off his face.

"Ooh, friends… Hi Merlin!"

Gwaine tottered toward the prince and his servant, dragging Morgana after him. What annoyed Arthur the most was that she didn't shake off his venturing hand. He stepped forward.

"I asked you a question, Gwaine."

"Do I know you?"

The slight slur was still in place, but the dark stare was perfectly awake_. 'faker…'_ If it hadn't been _Morgana_ the old rascal was groping, Arthur would have laughed. He raked his mind for a plausible explanation for using a name that hadn't been offered yet.

"Merlin told me about your… misadventure. I'm Prince Arthur."

He insisted 'Prince'. Gwaine smirked so that Arthur wanted to bang his head on the wall. This one didn't care much about nobility in general, and titles in particular. Actually, that was why Gwaine was probably his closest companion, after Merlin. When he wasn't hitting on his woman, that was. It seemed to be a habit, whatever the timeline.

The named woman had finally extracted herself from the knight's hands and watched the clumsy attempts of Merlin to pull the man straight with a smile on her lips. She was beyond beautiful… But he would not tolerate she flirted with the first good looking man she set her eyes on in the morning. Not after last night…

"Morgana, may I talk to you in private?"

Her smile turned mischievous.

"Maybe later, Arthur, I'm running late."

Before he could react, she was turning a corner, stifling a laugh. Arthur gritted his teeth. Trust Morgana to lift his spirits, and then sour his mood in a blink.

"Merlin!"

A groan answered.

"Ah right. Take Gwaine back to Gaius. I'll talk to you two later."

"Yes… Sire…"

"Bye Arthur!"

The mocking salute did nothing to brighten his day.

Neither did the company he found at the council. In addition to his father, King Caerleon and Queen Annis, Agravaine was sitting next to Geoffroy, and Morgana on his father's left. He frowned. Morgana was never invited to councils. What the hell was she doing here? Uther barked, "Finally. No, I don't want to hear any excuse."

Arthur took the empty seat by his father's right, watching the beautiful lady in front of him. She had chosen one of his favorite dresses for the occasion. The indigo velvet caught the morning light to shine, smooth caress of gold, red and blue. Her lips were painted a pale pink. She had smoked her lids just enough to enhance their impossible green. Her looks were as far as the sophisticated display of the previous evening as they could be. She stole his breath without even trying. Suddenly, he was glad they were separated by the table and in company. A reserved Morgana appealed to him even more than her world shaking self.

"So, as I was saying, I appointed Morgana as my ambassador as per Queen Annis' request."

"What?!"

"Arthur, I tolerated your lateness, I won't be that lenient toward pointless interruptions. Mind your tongue or exit this room."

The prince sat back down, his eyes holding Morgana's. Surprise, distress and joy fought an even match in her stare. She would have the freedom she craved, but away from Camelot, and Arthur… He looked away. Was that his father's retribution for his behavior the previous day? For a few wistful hours he had hoped, as the king didn't deny him…

"Sire, I heard concerning rumors about Morgana's… safety."

Arthur clenched his hands into fists under the table. All eyes turned toward the man on the other side of the table. Uther knit his brows so hard he looked like an angry wolf. Now he had their attention, Agravaine waved his hand toward Arthur.

"Maybe it would be best that Prince Arthur escort our retinue back to Isca?"

Caerleon hissed, "are you implying my knights are idle and can't protect the woman, Agravaine?"

The sleek smile changed direction toward the beard king.

"Of course not. But the Lady Morgana is Camelot's first feminine ambassador so…"

"I'll go."

Arthur jumped on the offered occasion. He would reflect on Agravaine's motives later. Right now…

"Very well. This matter is settled. You'd better go and prepare your chests; the party is leaving by the end of the week."

Morgana rose slowly and bowed, a little paler than usual. Arthur stared at her retreat without a word. Merlin slipped into the room as she exited and nodded in his direction. Suddenly, an idea seeded in his mind…


	14. Chapter 14 : crossboard

**A/N: If I owned Merlin, Arthur and Morgana would have their happy ending.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 14 : Chessboard<p>

The next days disappeared in a blur of preparations, dress rehearsals and meetings.

Gwen cried her heart out when she realized her duties to her father would forbid her to follow her mistress in that new adventure. Therefore, she decided to make sure her wardrobe would not suffer from her absence. Morgana too felt a little sad to leave her maid behind. Despite Gwen other self' behavior, the petite brunette had been nothing but a very good friend to her, loyal to a fault. The pang of jealousy was completely gone somehow. However, her busy schedule left her with little time to wonder about that change of heart.

Uther had taken upon himself to instruct her on what he called her 'ambassador duties': smile, listen, answer a question by another question, and never put yourself in a vulnerable position. All in all, it seemed quite the same that her ladyship behavior, save for the fact that now, _thinking_ was actually required.

This side of Uther surprised her. The king she knew and distrusted rarely deviated from the hard line when it came to politics. However, this Uther was patient and crafty. He complimented her sense of observation and smiled on more than one occasion when she asked a question. To her embarrassment, this Uther was someone she was able to recognize herself into.

Politics, he explained, was life playing Chess. You have to think several moves in advance to win the game.

"I will need to identify all the pieces first."

"I beg your pardon?"

Morgana gasped, startled. Queen Annis stared back at her, waiting for her to explain her comment. The young woman curtsied quickly, gaining a few seconds to figure out a plausible excuse.

"A vase, your Highness. I broke it the other night; Gaius offered to mend it, but I need to gather all the pieces first."

Annis bent her head to a side, her clear eyes drilling into Morgana's. The raven hair beauty gave a coy smile, hoping it would dismiss the other woman's doubts. Finally, the queen offered her arm, indicating her to walk with her outside.

"I'm glad you were allowed to accept my invitation, Morgana. It will do you good to see the world beyond this castle and experiment something else than Pendragons men for company."

Morgana chose her words carefully, not so much as to follow Uther's instructions than to hide the shock to have the queen express out loud some of her own longings.

"Thank you for having me, your Majesty."

Annis smirked.

"I see that Uther gave you pointers. Let me give you some as well, Morgana. Alliances are not only about treads and masks. They are also the matter of trust, and open minds."

"Yes, your Majesty."

The queen shook her head in amused exasperation.

"Please stop with the formalities. Your mother was very dear to me, and I held you in diapers."

"Will you…" Morgana hesitated. The eyes fixed on her seemed to see straight to her heart. "Will you tell me about her?"

"I doubt Uther will appreciate if I do."

Morgana lifted her chin proudly, caution gone.

"Uther won't accompany us."

"But his son will."

She reacted at once.

"Arthur is not his father."

Annis answered her fierce statement with a small smile.

"So I've been told…"

She pointed toward the train field to her right.

"He certainly inherited his father's talent on the battlefield, though."

Morgana followed her stare.

Arthur was facing Gwain in a one-on-one fight with training sticks. The brown-hair man saw her and bowed his head gallantly, before he looked at his opponent again. Arthur stayed focused on him, but didn't use the opening the momentary distraction of Gwaine had offered him. They walked on the opposite sides of a wide circle, stick taping stick irregularly. Arthur pushed forward, wood clashing for a brief moment as Gwaine pared easily. Then they started circling each other again.

Morgana noticed Gwaine was panting slightly. He held his stick close to his left side, probably weakened by his wound. Arthur lunged again, this time to the left. He countered the other man's block, pressed forward... Morgana hold her breath, waiting for the coming gasp of pain, but then… Gwaine grinned. He released one of his hand from the stick, twisted his remaining wrist to make the wood whirl and Arthur could only witness his own weapon flying up in the air. Still grinning, the scruffy soon-to-be knight grabbed it and saluted. Merlin clapped, instantly shut up by Arthur's glare.

Annis nodded pensively.

"He let him win, didn't he? He had at least two occasions to disarm him, but he waited. Why is that?"

The prince leaned toward Merlin and then turned his head toward the women. Waving at his sparing companion to go on without him, Arthur jogged to them, Merlin on his heels.

Morgana swallowed her smile and shrugged uncommitted.

"Who knows what's in Arthur head?"

"Oh, I think you have a pretty good idea, dear child."

Morgana's cheeks heated.

"Only when it's empty, your Highness."

Annis chuckled.

"What's empty? Your Majesty… Morgana…"

Morgana flushed even more. Arthur looked at her curiously, while he paid his respect toward the queen. Teasing seemed more difficult since that kiss… Every time they started bickering, her mind replayed the scene over and over again, from the tickling to that moment he… She cleared her throat.

"My stomach, Arthur. You promised me lunch. It's past noon already and I'm famished."

He hid his surprise better than she did.

"I did? Ah, yes… Yes, of course."

Queen Annis excused herself and walked away to talk to her husband's second in command, gesturing Agravaine to join her. Morgana jumped, suddenly noticing the dark man coming out of the shadows on her left. How long had he lurked there…

"Morgana?"

"Yes, let's go."

She took Arthur's arm so that he could escort her out of the train yard. Merlin followed with one last wave to his new friend. She leaned toward her escort.

"Do you think you'll be able to reproduce that move?"

Arthur beamed, as always when she showed she had indeed paid attention.

"You noticed, huh? Gwaine claims he can do it with swords too. I never had time before to practice it…"

"I noticed, Arthur, and so did Annis."

And Agravaine… His winning smile sunk. He paused, scratching the back of his head. The gesture brought back so much of the insouciant boy he was not so long ago Morgana couldn't retain a fond smile. She turned, fluttering her fingers to Merlin.

"Can you bring us lunch to Arthur's chambers, Merlin?"

"Oh sure… Right away."

Arthur frowned as his servant rabbited out.

"How come he obey you that fast while I always have to repeat myself at least twice? And why my chambers?"

Morgana conceded an amused glance his way.

"I always ask nicely. My room is a mess. Gwen decided to go over my whole wardrobe."

Arthur scoffed.

"You have too many dresses anyway."

"Complaining?"

Today's outfit was made of green wool and golden lace. Arthur let his stare roamed over her impishly. The things a simple kiss could change… He took her hand to his lips, satisfied to see her eyes followed the gesture as she flushed again.

"Depends… How many do you plan on taking with you?"

"I…"

Morgana finally caught his mischievous smile and pulled her hand free.

"Can't you be serious for a minute? We need a plan! What if-"

Arthur interrupted her.

"I have a plan. Take you there. Watch you charm the iscarans. Bring you back in one piece. Simple."

She huffed.

"It won't be that easy Arthur. Queen Annis is not a fool; there's Agravaine, and…"

Arthur tossed his jacket and sword haphazardly toward the table. The throw was too short and they landed on the chair. Morgana sighed, picked the items up, along with a shirt and took her load to the bed. She tripped on a pair of boots. She exhaled impatiently. Really, she needed a chat with Merlin about tidying…

"You're forgetting Gwaine."

Morgana lifted an eyebrow.

"Gwaine."

"Yes, Gwaine."

"Oh no… Absolutely not."

She turned with her fists on her hips. Arthur said, "He's the perfect excuse. He already turns around you like a fly around honey."

"Thank you very much. I'm reduced to be bait again, for a mercenary this time. A real improvement."

He grinned.

"Somehow… Don't underestimate him, Morgana. I know the man, remember. Beside myself, he's the only one I trust to protect you."

She scoffed, "I can protect myself."

Arthur took a cautious step toward her.

"Of course you can…"

"Why not Leon?"

He frowned. Why did she have to name Leon?

"It has to be someone from Caerleon's retinue."

She sighed.

"Do you really trust him?"

"Around you? Never. But in a fight, I'll trust him with my life."

Morgana stopped arguing to let his meaning sink. These days, Arthur could outmaneuver her too easily… She resented it a little. She used to be the one manipulating him… If he came to truly realize the power he had over her, she would never see the end of it…

"Morgana? You're not arguing."

Arthur shook her out of her trail of thought. She forced herself to scowl.

"Why would I? For once, you're making sense."

He pulled a face at her, then slopped in a chair.

"All right. Tell me what today's lesson was about."

Morgana approached the table in turn.

"Chess play."

"Ah. Father's favorite metaphor… What pieces do you think they are?"

Once again, he had picked up her brains easily. Morgana sighed.

"Well Caerleon and Annis are obvious. Agravaine makes me think of a rook: watching, and waiting to take the king's place…" Silently, she thought 'whatever the kingdom.'

"Funny. I would have made him a bishop: moving far but always sneaking in diagonal."

She laughed. The man panted after each passing skirt. A famous monk he would make. Arthur asked, "What about us?"

"You're the king and I'm the queen of course."

"You got it reverse."

Both jumped, as Merlin kicked the door close.

"Merlin!"

"Sorry… My hands are full. I think that Morgana is the most important piece on the board, but her moves are very limited for now. On the contrary, you, Arthur, can do as you please, so you have to be the queen…"

Morgana laughed heartily. Arthur huffed. His servant shrugged.

"What? What did I say?"

"Shut up, Merlin."


	15. Chapter 15 : crossroads

Chapter 15 : crossroads

Arthur rode at the rear of the column. His stallion neighed and hoofed the ground every few minutes to urge him to take the lead. The black horse wasn't use to follow and clearly didn't like it. However, the prince kept his current position. It allowed him to watch all and everyone discreetly.

The king was in front with his second in command. A small contingent of knights, fully armored with immaculate cloaks flapping in their back followed him. The queen and Morgana came next, backed by another contingent. Of course, Gwaine was trotting alongside Morgana. It hadn't taken much to have him shadowed the raven beauty. A word here and there, some idle comment about her supposed admiration and he was a goner.

Arthur pulled on his reins to refrain his mount once more. In spite of his not-so-heartfelt recommendation, Morgana did little to encourage the attention. He saw it in the way her shoulders tensed every time Gwaine leaned toward her. She held her head proudly up, as if she was making an effort not to seek a certain prince out.

He missed her too. The journey didn't allow them the privacy of Camelot castle. Every chance they had to be alone was spoiled by Merlin, Gwaine, or Queen Annis' maid. With so many people around, he didn't dare asking about her dreams or talking about his.

The nightmares had come back with a vengeance. The ones he recognized as fragments of his memory terrified him the most. In those, she looked down on him with so much hatred he had trouble not to be startled when she saluted him in the morning, or to remember how sweetly she had answered his kiss less than two weeks ago.

Their second, but who was counting? Arthur longed for a third kiss, one she would initiate again and would be more than a brief brush of lips. He wanted to close his eyes, and dream of the day she would welcome him in her arms, never to let him go.

"It seems our Lady Morgana inspires devotion quite easily."

Arthur straightened up on his saddle.

"Uncle."

Agravaine finished circling the chariot to take his horse near Arthur's. He pointed out the middle of the column, where Gwaine was laughing.

"I was under the impression that you two were…"

"Were what, Uncle?"

The older man raised a significant eyebrow. Arthur boiled internally but kept his mouth tightly shut. He wasn't to offer any weapon to the man. In return, if Agravaine committed himself, Arthur would gladly take notice and use it in due time. He wasn't the naïve prince that same man had duped so easily; he had learnt the importance of his father's lessons the hard way. Agravaine shook his head with a lopsided smile.

"Never mind. I am trying to convince Caerleon to organize a hunt once we'll reach the Went Woods. Your father told me how much you love hunting. Surely you will give me a hand in this matter?"

Arthur swallowed. He did love the sport; the thrill, the rush of energy that heated his blood, the pleasure to shoot, the deep urge to kill... However, a hunting party suggested by his traitor of an uncle sounded no good. He felt trapped. He had no mean to refuse without arising suspicion.

"I would love too. I suppose we will have settled everyone safely in Isca by then?"

Agravaine chuckled. The sound screeched on Arthur's nerves like iron on stone.

"You never cared much about geography, did you? The Wents are about a day and an half from the castle. We let the women go on by themselves for a while. This snail pace is bothering, don't you think?"

The prince liked this less and less. He forced a big smile on his face.

"You're absolutely right, Uncle."

Arthur twisted his boot discreetly so it pressed on a sensible part of his stallion lower side. The animal reacted instantly, dancing out of line with a neigh of protest.

"I think Hengroen agrees. I will take him for a short gallop. He'd been dying to do so all morning. If you excuse me…"

Without waiting, the prince kicked his mount into a faster pace. He came up the full length of the column, with only the shortest nod toward the king before he loosened his grip on the reins. His stallion shot forward.

Eyes pierced his back. Arthur couldn't tell if they were friends or foes. It didn't matter. For a few minutes, he was free. He kept the reins loose so his horse could run at its own pace. The world disappeared in a stampede of green and grey. For the first time, he truly understood what Morgana might feel, trapped in the castle all day long, forced to wait for the king's good will or his own to taste a limited freedom. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin had been right: she couldn't do much more than take one step at the time, in one direction or the other. Her magic and her feminine conditions forbad otherwise. When he would be king, he would change that.

Arthur coughed, gagged by the wind his mad run lifted before him. How many times had he said that in the past? '_When I'll be king, things will be different. No one will be judged by his ancestors. All will be allowed to have their own believes.'_ What had he truly changed? Half his kingdom had turned its back on him. He had set a war on his neighbors for some idiotic reason. He had been tricked, betrayed, spellbound, cuckold… A famous king he had made. He was just a blind fool with a shiny ringlet on his head, and an ego large enough to blind a giant.

What would his pride have him do now? Commit incest? Damned his own sister's soul while he pretended saving her? Trapped her in a life of lies and delusions?

His father hadn't confirmed or denied, in spite of Arthur blunt allusions. It didn't make their blood relation less true. Arthur almost wished he had not been in the castle that fateful day, when Morgana had stripped their father of his crown… Their father… Knowing Uther, he could be plotting some alliance in his son's back right now, like the one he had tried with Elena, and later Mithian… No, no that was Agravaine. Each passing day confused things a little more. Kissing Morgana, imaging her in his arms, in his bed even for a moment was like tasting paradise. But what was it for her? What right had he to require so much from her? Did she only want it, want him, the way he did her? She was innocent, curious about life and love. It wasn't right…

Tears burnt his eyes, and he knew they weren't only due to the dust flying around him.

"Arthur!"

Out of breath, the prince pulled on his reins to slow his mount. The horse protested but obeyed, so that Gwaine could finally reach his side.

"Wow, I thought I would never catch up."

Arthur rubbed his eyes with his elbow before the other man noticed his red eyes. He groused, "Hengroen needed the exercise. This is a war horse, not a mule."

Gwaine gave the animal a critical eye, then Arthur.

"I guess. Anyway, Merlin sent me after you; he feared you'd break your neck charging like that."

Merlin knew Arthur was an excellent cavalier, only overstepped by Morgana herself. It hadn't been Merlin who had sent Gwaine after him. Nor Morgana, for that mattered. She too knew of his abilities, better than anyone else. Maybe she had sensed his trouble, feeling he would need someone to keep him out of trouble, and she had sent her admirer after him, bound to her place in the retinue by etiquette. Or maybe Gwaine had simply taken upon himself to follow him.

More than once, Gwaine had revealed himself a good friend, no matter how unruly and reckless the man was. The weight on Arthur's chest lightened. He had missed the undemanding friendship he shared with the knight. He nodded.

"Right. Merlin. I have to talk to Merlin. Thanks."

Gwaine played with the copper crescent of his necklace.

"Anytime, _my lord_. Next time, I'll race you."

Arthur laughed.

"Even if I'd give you a start-up I would beat you by a length, at the very least."

His horse approved nosily. Gwaine snorted.

"Give me anything else than this old nag, and I might surprise you."

Then he winked, and turned tail without waiting for the prince, whistling and nibbling at the leather bind around his neck. Arthur clicked his tongue to set his horse to a walk.


	16. Chapter 16 : magic

Chapter 16 : Magic

"I don't like it. Arthur…"

Morgana watched Merlin paced the tent restlessly. She sat on her cot with her arms around her knees, her plate untouched on the ground. Her head pounded to the point keeping her eyes open hurt.

After a week on the road, and the impossibility to get one moment to talk in private, Arthur had finally given in. Keeping too many secrets to his manservant was next to impossible anyway, with Merlin's habit to walk on him unexpectedly. So the prince had let him into the confidence. At least some of it.

She still remembered Merlin's gawping when he heard about Arthur's doubts about his uncle. It had been actually quite funny. Arthur explained he was concerned about a member of the family who suddenly appeared after twenty-four years, and threatened his father (which was true). Meanwhile, Merlin kept saying "but" "but" and never finishing the sentence. With him knowing, Arthur and Morgana had been allowed to a little more privacy. When they wanted to discuss alone, they simply sent the poor Merlin spying on Agravaine or discuss with other servants to know more about his whereabouts with the iscaran sovereigns.

At the moment, though, she just wished he stopped putting into words the fears that tortured her indides. She was so tired…

"I know Merlin, but I don't have a choice. I have to go on this hunt."

"But…"

"Caerleon won't understand if I refuse and we can't afford to alert my uncle."

Morgana closed her eyes in hope not seeing them argue would also muffle the sounds. The ache had reached the base of her skull. Her back cried out when she shifted to rest on her side.

"Morgana?"

Arthur's worried voice failed to pierce through the fog around her. The pulse in her head lowered for a breath, then struck back harder than ever.

Anxious fingers brushed her forehead.

"She's icy cold. Go fetch another cover and a brazier, Merlin."

Cold? Her face and hands were burning. How could she be cold?

"Morgana, do you hear me? What's wrong 'Gana?"

The pressure in her head squeezed her temples into an iron vice. Her ears buzzed so that listening to Arthur was more and more difficult. His palm on her cheek withdrew. She stretched to lengthen the contact. If she lost it…

"Merlin!"

"Here. Couldn't find a brazier, so I-"

"Give me that."

The additional cover crushed her feeble lungs, making it hard to breathe. It was too heavy to push it away. She had as much strength as a new-born kitten. Morgana opened her eyes. If she couldn't speak, maybe they would read what she needed in her stare? Arthur always knew how to read her eyes…

"Wow!"

Her pupils flashed gold. Merlin jumped back with both hands in front of him. Arthur nearly lost his ground. A shout erupted somewhere outside.

"You fools!"

Gwaine barged in. He knelt near the cot, forcing the frail lady to turn to him.

"Concentrate, Morgana, focus on the stone."

He held a very small rock crystal in his hand, round with a circle of copper.

Morgana whined and writhed to escape his grip. Arthur grabbed the handle of his dagger.

"What do you think you're doing? Leave her alone!"

"I'm saving her life. Her magic tries to burst out. She has to release the energy or she'll make us all explode! Tell him, Merlin!"

"Me? But… But I…"

Arthur split his attention between the beautiful lady moaning on the cot, Gwaine and his servant. Morgana arched suddenly, her back nearly losing contact with the bed. More noise came from the outside. Horses whined in freight. Gwaine urged, "Merlin!"

Arthur growled, "If you can do something, do it."

The gawky young man tiptoed toward her. Arthur hesitated, then made room. Merlin knelt near the header of the cot. He leaned over the inanimate body and placed his hands on each side of her head. Morgana jerked. Merlin closed his eyes an instant. When he opened them again, his deep blue eyes had turned to gold. Arthur cringed. He refused to think about Merlin, secrets and more lies. It didn't matter now. If there was one chance in a million Merlin could help her… The prince held his breath. Morgana cried out. Her hips and legs trashed, as if she tried to escape. Arthur took one of her hands in his. Her nails dung into his flesh hard enough to draw blood. Merlin hardened his grasp on her head. He mumbled in a foreign language. Some words hissed like angry snakes, other soft as the caress of a feather. Morgana continued to scquirm and held Arthur's hand.

After what felt like an eternity, Merlin released his grip and fell seated on the ground. Morgana had stopped quivering. She rested on her back, her chest quietly rising and falling as if she was fast asleep. Gwaine whistled softly. Arthur glared.

"Is she all right? Is she safe?"

Merlin nodded.

"Yes, I think so."

"Thanks, Merlin."

Taken aback, the young man held his prince's stare with a light blush on his cheeks.

"You knew?"

Arthur caressed Morgana's hand, still curled into his. Sitting on the cot awkwardly, he turned toward the brown-hair man standing at the entry of the tent.

"No. I had suspicions. I'm not _that _clueless. Seriously. You being the only one able to hit me on the head more than once? No offense but… No, the real question is how did _Gwaine_ know…"

Gwaine faced both his friends with his customary smirk.

"Easy. My handler was a witch-hunter."

Merlin dropped the plate he had picked up. Food scattered on the ground. Arthur let go of Morgana to draw his blade, ready to stab the man. Gwaine held both men up in apology.

"Wow, wow, is that how you show thankfulness? I saved her life here, and our necks to go with it."

Arthur snarled, "explain".

"I told you my father died when I was a todd', right? Well my mother followed suite. Her family couldn't afford to feed another mouth, and suddenly, here came Aredian. He needed an apprentice; my aunt needed space, and that was it."

"Why haven't you told us before?" Merlin asked.

Gwaine shrugged.

"Sure, great ice breaker. Hi, I'm Gwaine former witch-hunter's apprentice. I know you're a magician living in the worst possible place for one of your kind, but heck, let's be friends."

Arthur glared.

"Right. But how did you _know_?"

Gwaine plunged his hand in his shirt. Arthur tightened his grip on his dagger.

"Hey, wow, easy there. You want answers, I'll give them okay? Here."

He pulled his crescent moon medallion from around his neck. Arthur huffed.

"So?"

Gwaine clipped the strange stone he had presented to Morgana earlier to the crescent. Merlin strained his neck to watch as the crystal started to glow.

"Here goes your magic detector. Recharge once a day, works for life."

"Wow, can I see it?"

"Merlin."

The young magician neglected to answer Arthur's growl and picked up the strange jewel. Its glow increased as soon as he closed his fingers around it. The prince returned his full attention to the other man.

"How do I know you're not a witch-hunter yourself?"

He hated himself for asking. But he had to. The Gwaine he knew had never talked about a handler. The man seldom talked about his childhood. Arthur regretted once more he hadn't taken the time to know his friends better. He would have learnt about Merlin, and Gwaine. Merlin had magic. What else had he missed? Gwaine grinned.

"There are better things to do with women than burned them at the stakes, he?"

Arthur couldn't help but chuckled. He sheathed his weapon. Suspecting Gwaine of more than innocent mischief was stupid. The man lived for a good fight, ale, and the next woman to seduce. He, who despised nobility, knew more about honor than most of the nobles Arthur had known all his life. He offered his hand.

"Thanks, Gwaine."

"Don't mention it. At least to me… If she doesn't remember, maybe you can say a good word for me?"

"I'll think about that."

Arthur felt too drained to pretend helping the scruffy man to seduce the elfin lady.

"Hey, how does it work?"

Merlin gave the crystal back to its owner.

"Like I said, it's a detector. I _borrowed_ it from Aredian when I had enough of his methods. If someone possesses magic, the crystal started to glow. The closer I am to the source, the brighter the light."

"What happened to Morgana?"

Gwaine unclipped the stone from the crescent and slipped the pendant around his neck. Merlin beat him to the explanation.

"Magic is pure energy. If you use it regularly, the amount of energy you can store inside you increase, as well as the easiness to use it. Using magic also helps regularizing the flux. There's so much energy you can store at one time."

"So given that Morgana doesn't use her magic, it wanted out…"

"Yes."

Arthur sat down abruptly on the cot. Morgana nestled against his side in her sleep. He touched her forehead lightly. She sighed in her sleep, seeking instinctively for warmth. Merlin handed the forgotten cover so that Arthur could spread it over her legs.

"Can you help her? Any of you?"

"Probably. How are you going to explain…"

Gwaine smiled.

"I wouldn't worry too much about Isca if I were you. They are more tolerant that Camelot regarding magicians."

"We can't afford any of this to slip out. If my father hears about Morgana…"

"Hear what? Do you know what he is talking about, Merlin?"

The servant shook his head with a broad grin.

"Nope. You?"

"No idea. Always thought nobles are a bit loony. Royals must be the worst of them." He slapped his thigh, laughing at his own joke.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I heard someone talked about ale earlier. If your Majesty excuses me…"

Gwaine exited the tent with a mocking bow. Merlin watched him go with a long sigh of envy. Then he turned toward Arthur with an uncertain pout. Arthur shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about that now Merlin. Go and fetch me some of this ale, will you?"

"Yes Sire."

In all his years at his service, Arthur was pretty sure Merlin had rarely (if ever) obeyed faster to a direct order.


	17. Chapter 17 : Truth and dare

Chapter 17 : truth and dare

Morgana was dreaming, though she couldn't tell if it was one of _those_ dreams. She just floated quietly between sleep and awareness, swaying on the hem of consciousness though she was certain that she was sleeping at the same time.

The fields around her were vaguely familiar. Or maybe it was just the fact that their tender green reminded her of her eye color. It contrasted with the heavy clouds racing in the sky. A storm was brewing. The wind ruffled a blond child she recognized. Morgana felt a pang in her heart when little figure squealed in delight and started running. She raced after her, suddenly anxious the wind blew her friend away. Those laughs and happy cries were so pleasant, so different from the usual shouts of war and deaths she generally endured in her dreams.

The young woman awoke abruptly on her cot. Annis' maid was busying over one opened chest, folding clothes and preparing her outfit for the day. Her friends were nowhere to be seen. Her headache was completely gone to.

"Fiona, where are Prince Arthur and Merlin?"

"Oh they left early for the hunt, my lady." The girl pouted. "Nearly all the men went."

Morgana pushed upright, surprised to feel rested. Maybe it had just been a dream. Generally, visions left her sore and overly tired.

"Did the queen go as well?"

"Oh no, my lady. Queen Annis despises hunting with a passion. It's the one of the rare points she and the king disagree on."

Suddenly, the girl seemed to remember something and hurried to another chest.

"I nearly forgot my lady. The queen is expecting you for breakfast. You have to hurry."

"All right."

Morgana stretched luxuriantly and stood, resigning herself to endure another of Annis' everlasting questioning.

The party marched deep into the woods. Servants dressed in brilliant blue for the occasion bit the bushes with long sticks to chase away the animals. The hunters walked behind, their crossbows, spears or long bows ready to shoot.

Arthur glanced at Merlin on his left. He had asked him to stay as close to the king as he could without neglecting his scouting. Merlin had set out even before he had finished explaining himself. Since his secret was out, it seemed he wanted to spend as little time as possible near the prince. His attitude pained Arthur, but he couldn't force Merlin to talk him if he didn't want to.

Arthur caught a flap of black leather from the corner of his eyes. Good. As long as Agravaine was within sight, he was unlikely to try anything.

The prince reported his attention to the man directly beside him. Caerleon was tensed forward, totally devoted to his game. His farouche beam said it all about his pleasure with the hunt. He looked much more at ease with his crossbow in hand than in a courtroom. Arthur understood fully how the man felt. Himself…

A grunt erupted in front of him, taking his attention back to his path. The flexible branch danced as the whipping a scout lashed her.

Arthur suspected the queen was more interested in ruling than her husband. Annis was a strong woman. From what his memory still held and the pieces he had gathered from her company in the last days, she governed her realm and her household with a firm hand in a velvet glove. In many ways, she reminded him of Morgana…

He bent his head, forging an image of the beautiful lady reigning by his side. Together, they would make the kingdom flourish. Camelot needed a strong queen. If their blood forbad marriage, she still could be his co-regent. He would love her from afar, keeping her safe for as long as she would need him to. She would be ravishing with a circle of gold in her hair, dressed in the Pendragon trademark red… The fantasy warmed the part of him that still shook from last night's alert.

A shriek tore Arthur out of his daydream. Noises flared up on his left. Caerleon was already running toward the quavering bush, aiming for the kill. Arthur jumped after him. Merlin shouted something inaudible. His heart pumped too excitably in his ears, making him deaf to anything that wasn't a call for the kill.

The arrow flew out of nowhere. It pierced his thigh, entering the flesh. He didn't scream. The pain wasn't there yet. Arthur toppled forward. Crimson covered his hands instantly as he pressed the wound to stop the bleed. Someone roared, "What the hell did you do?"

The queen gave Morgana a quizzical look.

"I hope the commotion yesterday didn't disturb your rest, dear child. Some idiotic servant lit a fire too close to the horses and they panicked."

"I didn't hear a thing, Majesty."

"Annis, Morgana. I told you; my name is Annis."

The young woman offered an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, I fear I'm not quite awake yet."

The queen narrowed her stare on her face.

"I'm glad you managed to get some sleep. You seemed awfully tired yesterday. You looked flushed, as if you were burning up with fever."

Morgana swallowed a gulp of tea, almost gritting her teeth. She hated looking like some fragile doll one had to pamper. She wasn't the type to whine and faint so to attract attention. But if playing along was what it took to discard the attention, she would do it without a second glance.

"I feel fine, Maj… Annis. A peaceful night was all I needed. I'm not use to ride so much at a time. Arthur read for me; some dull treaty about chivalry. I think I didn't even hear him leave my tent."

Lies came more easily by each passing day. The queen grinned.

"That was nice of him. I had heard he was headstrong and could quite be rude. Seeing he's as gallant as a prince should be is a pleasant surprise."

Morgana forced a laugh out, sensing the more personal turn the conversation was taking.

"Arthur used to be quite a bully. But he's learning."

Annis chuckled.

"You are taming him well I see."

Morgana hoped her flush could pass for embarrassment at the innuendo. The raven hair beauty took another sip of tea before she answered carefully.

"We're as close as siblings can be."

Deeper emotions swirled inside her, a sickening turmoil that refused to quiet. The queen had said she was a close friend to her mother. Close friends said everything to each other. She didn't dare asking… Annis said, "For his sake, I hope you're not seeing him only as a brother."

Morgana frowned. She put her cup down and faced the queen fully for the first time, pretense gone.

"What do you mean?"

The mighty queen chuckled again. The sound didn't reassure her, as the clear stare continued to drill into hers. Morgana breathed in deeply, waiting for an answer that didn't come. After a few excruciating seconds, she decided to act once more as the damsel in distress the queen seemed to think she was, and pouted.

"If Arthur was so taken with me, he would have stayed with me instead of going on that ridiculous hunt."

Annis shook her head. Her own face mirrored Morgana's fake exasperation.

"That, Morgana, is today's lesson about love. Nothing can detour men from their favorite sport."

"What are you waiting for? Do it!"

Caerleon knelt on the leafy ground, immobile.

A sword rose high in the air, then axed down.


	18. Chapter 18 : the once and future king

Chapter 18 : the once and future king

Arthur was immobile with his hands flat over his stomach. His eyes stared at some point in front of him, seeing nothing. His clothes were stiff with blood and dirt. He didn't pay attention to the discomfort. He heard some whines outside. They were nothing compared to the void growing in his chest.

Fabric swished; the whisper was too loud for his nerves. Arthur didn't bother to glance up. Morgana asked sharply, "Arthur, what happened? Where is Merlin?"

Sure enough, Gwaine was attached to Morgana's heels like glue. He would not tolerate his flirting now.

The prince heaved himself up from the ground, almost panting at the effort. He snatched her wrist and pulled her to him roughly. Unimpressed, Gwaine announced, "a short contingent is to ride to Isca and escort the king. The queen demands that you go with them."

"Fine. You know what to do."

The words rolled through clenched teeth. Gwaine nodded and walked away. Morgana hadn't budged. Arthur circled her waist with both arms, holding her until she reciprocated his desperate embrace. She whispered in his neck, "you have to stop doing that, or no one will believe I'm interested in Gwaine, especially him…"

"Don't care."

Arthur's voice was raw, as if something had stripped his soul bare of its usual confidence. Morgana let himself nestle his face in her hair. His breathing itched dangerously. She tightened her hold around his shoulders. She had never seen him so troubled before, as if he wouldn't be able to breathe if she didn't support him. She asked again, more softly this time, "What happened?"

"I'm not sure…"

Morgana arched back lightly, so she could help his head up with one hand and plunged her eyes in the anxious blue of Arthur's.

"Tell me."

"It was exactly like in your vision. Caerleon was on his knees, and…"

Before he could continue, a knight cleared his throat. Morgana detached herself from Arthur to glare down on the importune. The prince briefly marveled at her aplomb. It was always like that with them; when one was distressed, the other was strong, so their emotions balanced the odds. They completed each other like twins. He frowned, concentrating on the man's statement.

"The queen requests your presence."

Despite the polite tone, anger and suspicion rolled in the voice's man.

Arthur straightened up at once, automatically switching to what Morgana called his Camelot's crown prince's mode. She could see the doubt lingering in his stare nonetheless. She also sensed he needed in charge now, just like she knew he needed her strength before. Arthur replied, "We'll be there in a minute."

The man bowed his head and marched away. Arthur turned again to the beautiful lady.

To his amazement, she was adjusting her sleeves, as if their little drama hadn't taken place, and her appearance was the only thing that had been on her mind for the last fifteen minutes. He smiled despite of himself. When she was done brushing her skirts, he asked, "ready?"

Morgana glanced up, answering the sharp comment with a smirk of her own.

"Whenever you are, _my lord_."

Meanwhile, her eyes said she understood.

Eyes followed them across the camp. Murmurs came along the stares. Morgana forced herself to ignore both. She fell into steps with her prince, her hands peacefully crossed over her churning stomach, her head proudly up. Their previous encounter had reversed their feelings like an hourglass: her strength for his disarray. Now was Arthur's turn to lead, without anything to tug him down, yet she wished she could have had his arm for support. The fast pace he imposed made breathing a constant battle.

Arthur's hand shifted and she nearly reached for it. He grasped the hilt of his sword instead. The familiar stance failed to comfort her.

The crowd parted before them, until they reached the royal tent. Agravaine approached at once.

"Arthur! Your servant disap-"

"Not now, Uncle."

The blond prince took the grip off his shoulder, and motioned Morgana to enter first.

Annis had ordered all the lamps to be lit. The brightness inside made Arthur blinked. He half-expected the tent to match the sour mood spreading like fire among the retinue. She sat on a stool by her husband, a queen of fire and ice.

Morgana shivered. The air seemed to vibrate, heavy with herbal scents and the hard taste of sorrow. The hair on her arms prickled. Her blood recognized another form of energy that lurked behind the rest. Curiosity and fear joined the battle in the pit of her stomach.

Annis rose to her feet. Morgana stood her ground.

"Prince Arthur…"

"Majesty. I am deeply sorry, I-"

"You probably saved my husband's life."

He took the offered hand, amazed to feel it cool and steady. Annis went on.

"If you hadn't taken that arrow out, he would be dead by now. The tip was poisoned."

Arthur jerked, his shoulders squaring instantly.

"You mean… Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have my… methods."

Morgana didn't like the sound of that. And if she was honest, she didn't like seeing Arthur held another woman's hand as delicately as he held hers, even if the other one was a married queen twice his age. She turned deliberately away, eyeing the opening of the tent for indiscreet ears. Annis asked, "Arthur, did you see who shot that arrow?"

"No. It came from a crossbow, but half of us had one." _Including himself_.

"All could have taken the shot." _Including himself_.

He saw the trap clearly, wishing he could have seen it before. Annis bent her head to the side. Arthur continued, "It was pure luck that it didn't hit the heart."

A luck named Merlin. Now he thought of it, he realized the wild gesticulation of his servant was an attempt to push the king aside. He concentrated. Agravaine had worn a spear, not a crossbow, then who… He turned to the queen.

"Majesty…"

"Not here. I couldn't take all the poison off myself. I don't have the abilities." Her stare lingered on the silent lady a few feet from them. "We'll ride soon. I just wanted to thank you myself."

The queen squeezed his hand once more, and then let him go. Arthur bowed and they took their leave.

The raven hair lady waited until they reached their horses to speak.

"My vision…"

"It was right. Caerleon was kneeling before me. I used my sword to cut the shaft of the arrow, so Gwaine could take it out."

Morgana sighed and froze. Her vision included a war. A battle involving both realms. It could still happen. As long as they stay with the iscaran sovereigns. She remembered of her very first question, one he was yet to answer.

"Where's Merlin?"

"Investigating. I sent Gwaine after him."

"Merlin? Investigating?"

Arthur gave a small smile.

"He is more useful than you think."

Morgana bit her tongue before she reminded him that _he_ was the one disregarding servants, not her. He didn't need his ego deflated now. He needed her support. She limited her answer to a sigh.

Arthur glimpsed at the commotion in the camp. The last tents standing were put down in hast. Servants ran to gather forgotten pots and covers. The knights patrolled among them warily.

"I'll arrange for you to return to Camelot. It's not safe here."

The patronizing clawed at her nerves. Morgana glared.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Arthur Pendragon."

"Don't you dare call me that."

The brutal anger in his voice stunned her. Morgana inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to step away. Arthur moved forward while she struggled not to back from him. "It's your name."

She held onto the thought, her knees weakening.

Arthur grasped her arm and growled, "I forbid you to call me that. Ever."

He was standing too close, stealing her air. He towered over her, and his glare was fierce.

"I won't allow it. Understood?"

Stronger than ever before, she saw the shadow of the king he would become; she experimented firsthand the instinctive devotion he would gather from his lieges. The need to kneel before him even though he was trying to submit her was overwhelming.

"Arthur…"

This time she whispered his first name almost like a prayer. He released her arm, but she couldn't move. Deep in her stomach, fear fused with some obscure desire she didn't understand completely, except she wanted him to claim her as his. Not because he wanted to protect her, because he felt responsible for her, but because she belonged to him, heart and soul.

"Arthur…"

His body was close enough to take whatever he wanted from her; whatever she was ready to offer. But he didn't. After a minute that lasted for an eternity, his stare cleared, and he returned to their previous conversation as if nothing had happened.

"I had a feeling you would say that."

She shook her head in confusion, trying to control her breathing. The need to bend to his will was still there, nagging. Desperate to find some of her confidence back, Morgana snapped, "So why do you suggest it in the first place?"

"One can only hope."

His casualness annoyed her once more. Only the people around them stopped her to look for the biggest stick she could find to hit him on the head. She hissed between her teeth. Arthur smirked.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Help me to my horse please."

"My lady wishes are my command…"

He looked so smug she stiffened for a second, half sure he was to scoop her up and put her across his own saddle like some prize from plunder.

The mumble between her teeth came out more distinguishable this time, something that sounded dangerously like 'cockhead'.

Arthur laughed.

"Should I worry about this new addition to your vocabulary?"

Morgana glared.

"Maybe you are spending too much time with Gwaine."

"Whose fault is that?"

He helped her mount then got on his stallion. The prince suddenly leaned toward her to peck her cheek. Disarmed, Morgana touched the tingling spot with her fingers. Arthur watched her reaction from under his lashes. After a full minute, she managed to overcome her surprise to scoff. The reproach lacked her usual sternness.

"You can't keep ending every argument we have like this…"

Arthur grinned. It was as if his outburst and her anger had never existed.

"Why not? It works every time…"

A shadow moved a few yards from them. His face dimed.

"We have to find a way to control my uncle."

Morgana bit the inner side of her cheek, thoughtful.

"I may have an idea."

Arthur sighed.

"Am I going to like it?"

This time, it was her time to sneer.

"No, I don't think so."


	19. Chapter 19 : into the lion's den

Chapter 19 : into the lion's den

The city looked like those sketches Arthur had seen of roman camps in Geoffroy's old books. The walls consisted of a ditch, a dike of grassy dirt and a wood palisade. The houses were made of stones, but the roofs were in hay. All buildings were single floored ones, except the biggest one, located in the rear of the town, backed by the only part of the fortifications that looked like real walls.

Compared to Camelot grandiose white towers, entering Isca felt like stepping back in time, taking one step from light to the darkness.

People had gathered to welcome back their sovereigns, but he could see curiosity morph into uneasiness as neither the king nor the queen were riding with the party. Some peasants dared approached the chariot enough to brush their hands over it. Knights pushed them away roughly. Grumbles and fearful stares escorted them along the way.

When they stopped in front of the massive house, the white cloaks formed a wall of their own, stopping the curious to look closer as the king was helped down and escorted into the castle. Arthur dismounted, automatically reaching for Morgana. He had a hard time staring into her eyes as he helped down her horse, unsure about what to say.

Apology was out of question. In her mouth, from where/when he came from, the words 'Arthur Pendragon' were an insult, a call of hatred and pain. He would not suffer to have her distance herself from him the way she had once. Yet he felt he had crossed a line earlier. He wasn't the brute that crowed her against her horse, trying to submit her. It wasn't how he wanted to treat her, even though sometimes, she acted as if the only thing she expected from men was blind roughness. The worst part was he enjoyed watching the shock in her eyes, the acceptance, and, if he dared put a name on the slow burning that lit her gaze when he towered over her, the arousal… He chastised himself internally. She had a knack to bring the worst out of him. _'Along with the best'_ he sneered. Morgana pushed all his buttons, called him names when he manhandled her, and snorted when he treated her like a porcelain doll. Sometimes, most of the time, Morgana confused the hell out of him.

Right now, she was looking around like a curious owl and smiled at him each time their stare met, as if nothing had occurred. Her lack of resentment, along with the forbidden images still flashing in his brains, had him squirmed uncomfortably.

Arthur was almost grateful when Fiona, Annis' maid, came to show them their rooms. The cairn, she explained, was in fact several suite put together, which connected by a central corridor leading to the throne room. The royal quarters occupied the whole north aisle. Theirs was in the eastern area.

The prince cringed when he realized they were to share one apartment. The bedrooms were smaller than the ones they had in Camelot, but -thanks God- had adjacent facilities for their ablutions. Furs and wool quilts were piled on the beds which took most of the space. The doors opened on a common room with an enormous table, a few cupboards and chests, and two massive chairs in front of a gigantic hearth.

"Queen Annis won't receive for diner under the circumstances, your Highnesses. I can bring you supper here, if it suits-"

"It will be fine, Fiona, thank you. Send Merlin here as soon as he'll arrive with our belongings."

"Yes Sire."

The girl curtsied and left them alone.

Morgana inspected her new domain, her hand brushing the walls and the furniture. Arthur ceded ways so she could peer inside his bedroom. She glanced inside for less than a breath, then walked around hers and back to the main room. The prince approached the window in an alcove of some sort. The under panel was made of wood with a lock. Apparently, it could be opened so the guests had access to a small balcony. Morgana moved closer.

"That's clever!"

He jolted, stepping sideways. A shadow dimmed her features.

"Arthur, are you avoiding me?"

He realized he was. Her vivid eyes made his reasons horribly clear when she looked up. Those images teased him again, basic instincts he did his best to keep at bay, but if she stayed too close… Arthur hid behind a smirk.

"I'll have a hard time doing that in here, won't I? It'd been a long day Morgana, so I think I'm going to try that bed."

He regretted saying it as soon as the words were out. Putting Morgana and bed in the same sentence was a big big mistake. Especially when she was taking off a piece of clothing.

The travel cloak slid to reveal the delicate line of her throat. He swallowed hard. His back was already to the wall. It was her turn to crowd his space. Her perfume blurred his senses. He only had to lower his head and…

Oblivious of his trouble, Morgana shrugged.

"As you like. I'm not tired. I'll go and explore."

The air felt cold when she took a step back. Arthur moved forward instinctively.

"I'd rather you don't."

One adorable brow shot up. He knew that frown all too well.

"I don't need your permission."

The sharp tone failed to force some sense into him. His dark side shimmered, welcoming the argument, anticipating the pleasure of taming her again. Shaken, Arthur escaped, putting several feet between them.

"Morg-"

A knock on the door interrupted him. The door opened even before one of them answered. Arthur was nearly happy to see their visitor.

"Uncle."

Agravaine took in their stances at once, and sneered.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you. I only wanted to make sure you were comfortable and the apartments are to your… liking."

Arthur swallowed, lips tightly pinched. Morgana smiled comely.

"That's very kind of you, Lord Agravaine. The accommodations are very nice, thank you for asking. Would you keep me company for a short walk? Arthur will be much more at ease if he knows I'm not venturing around by myself…"

The named Arthur felt like wringing the neck he wanted to kiss a minute ago. The little vixen twisted his words to her advantage; as if he was to rest in peace knowing that _Agravaine _escorted her, of all people. He would rather leave her to a witch-hunter's care than his uncle's.

The idea to bend her over his knees for a well-deserved spanking crossed his mind. He would relish every single minute.

Agravaine's smile broadened.

"Of course my dear."

_The chacal._

Arthur tried to hide his anger behind a scowl, and his scowl under a yawn. The result probably looked like a terrible grimace. He didn't care. Too furious to speak, he chirped something that could be interpreted as "thank you", or another word starting with an 'F'.

Morgana escaped Agravaine who was already grasping her arm and danced toward Arthur. His stare followed her moves, darkening by the minute. She tiptoed and planted a kiss near the corner of his lips. His sour mood swayed, lifting and then crashing down again harder. His uncle smirked in satisfaction. _What the hell?... _She had just blown up their cover! Was she mad? Her lips lingered near his, making it impossible to think clearly. Morgana whispered "trust me" against his mouth. His jaw slackened for good. She released him and danced away from him to slip her hand around the older man's elbow.

"Shall we?"

Left alone, Arthur slumped down in one of the chair. This woman would be the death of him; if he didn't strangle her first, that was.

The so-called palace was as dull as the city around. Morgana had not trouble drawing her course of actions as they crossed the small garden leading to a chapel of some sort. She had kissed Arthur in front of Agravaine on an impulse. She'd been dying to do so ever since his caveman's act in the morning, as some feminine way to both pleasure and sooth him. Of course, he was most likely to scold her later, but at the moment, the immediate results were just perfect.

The creepy admirer had transformed into a fatherly figure. When he leaned toward her, it was to murmur instead of leering at her bosom. Agravaine patted her hand as she recited her cover story.

"Don't be embarrassed dear Morgana. Your secrets are safe with me…"

"Oh, Agravaine… Thank you… I have to… I have to talk to someone. You noticed, I know… My feelings for Arthur…"

The hesitation was just a little forced.

"Feelings my nephew returns, I'm certain of that."

Morgana beamed happily.

"You really think so?"

She let two seconds pass.

"Arthur said he would try to talk to Uther, but we fear… Uther might not… Arthur thinks his father will not consent. Because of my mother…"

Agravaine tensed under her fingers. The fish was hooked. Morgana turned eyes as innocent as possible on the other man, taking both his hands in hers.

"Please, my lord… If you know… If you can do anything…"

Agravaine untangled himself from her hands. Morgana hid her smile.

"Surely you have noticed that Arthur's father and I aren't in the best terms at the moment."

Morgana nodded grimly, her pout firmly in place. Her heart took in the rhythm of his words. _Arthur's father_… Her little comedy was only partly fakery…

"All right. I'll do what I can to help."

"Oh thank you!"

For half a second, Agravaine's eyes on her unfocused, as if he was seeing another woman beaming at him instead of her. Finally, he sighed.

"Don't mention it, sweetling. Love is a beautiful thing. Come now, there's someone I want you to meet."

Morgana followed quietly. If she was right, either Agravaine would avoid them like plague, in case they pressed him to interfere with Uther, either he would encourage them to defy the king, and doing so lift the traitorous mask. One way or the other, she hoped they would learn a little more about the events that condemned them… The side effect allowed her to receive Arthur's attentions, and only his. Not Agravaine, not Gwaine's, just Arthur's… Morgana sighed in ease…

Agravaine pushed a door opened. She stepped inside, and paled. The blond woman in front of her was a grown-up version of the girl of her dream.

"Lady Morgana, this is my ward, Morgause. Morgause, say hello to your baby sister…"


	20. Chapter 20 : family reunion

**A/N: the end is coming... But in the meantime, please don't hate me!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 20 : family<p>

Arthur paced the room like a lion in a cage.

Morgana had gone for hours. A servant had brought their chests, but Merlin and Gwaine were yet to appear. A bell called for Vesper, then the end of mass. So late in the season, night downed quickly. Another servant came in to light some lamps and stir the fire in the chimney. Morgana was still to come back. Fiona came back to ask he wanted his supper. He barked a "no" that nearly had her running out of the room.

Dinner's time came and went without a whisper from any of his friends.

Tired to walk from the windowed alcove to his bedroom and back, Arthur tried to seat by the chimney to read. The book flew across the room after two lines. Where the hell were they? Where was Morgana? The fire cracked and he jumped, heart pounding. He couldn't stay here. If he stayed inside he was either to go mad or destroy the room.

Arthur stood, searching the small chambers for his sword. Suddenly, he felt the urge to unsheathe it. The blade gleamed a soft blue, the color making the steel looked like deadly glass. He lost himself in the contemplation of Excalibur, as if the strange weapon was absorbing his anxiety so the only important thing was the weight in his hand and his ability to use it. The light around the blade grew. Blue paled to aquamarine. It cleared some more, becoming so bright he couldn't watch it directly.

The door burst open. Arthur spun on his heels. Merlin barged in.

"Arthur!"

His hands quavered as he put his sword aside.

"Merlin… Where the hell were you! Did you see-"

"We have to hurry, Morgause-"

_Morgause? Here? Where?_ _Why? _Merlin tugged at the prince's arm. Arthur stood his ground.

"Merlin, I don't understand the first it! Where's Gwaine?"

The servant reluctantly agreed to turn and breathed before he tried to put some sense in his explanations.

"We did what you said. We looked around for clues about the shooter. Gwaine knows how to track so we followed his lead toward a crystal cave."

Merlin panted, on the verge of full panic.

"I saw it all, Arthur. Morgana... Her sister is going to turn her against us! We have to stop them while her powers are still dormant… Come, quick!"

His blood chilled in Arthur's veins. It was happening again. Morgause had found them here. Agravaine had lured them into her trap, Morgana… No. Not again. He tightened his grip on Excalibur. Merlin pulled at his arm again.

"We have to go now, Arthur! Oh hell, for once in your life, trust me!"

The last words froze him on the spot.

"Wait."

'_Trust me'_.

"What! Why? Arthur!" Merlin shrieked.

Morgana had asked him to trust her. She wanted him to let her chose. Never before she had had a real chance to decide for herself. Uther's laws bound her freewill. Morgause had kidnapped her. The twisted Morgana had pretended her sister had freed her, but the truth was Morgana had never had a choice. She never had had a chance to _make her choice_. Now she could. She knew what could happen because he had told her. She knew he loved her. He had to trust Morgana to make the right choices. He trusted her to make them.

"Merlin, tell me where's Gwaine."

"But-"

"Gwaine, Merlin", Arthur snarled.

Merlin blustered out, "He's with Lancelot."

_Huh? _

Merlin sighed heavily, resigned to explain.

"Lancelot found us in the cave. He is looking after-"

Some pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"Take me to the queen. Now."

"But Morgana?"

"She'll be fine. Lancelot's the shooter. We can't let him approach the queen. Now Merlin!"

Arthur rushed out of the room. This too had happened before. A sorceress had enchanted the bitter knight so he seeded discord among the kingdoms. Maybe Morgause, maybe someone else. It didn't matter. He had the time only to save one. He loved Morgana with all his heart. She would understand. He prayed she would forgive him.

White cloaked knights fell into steps with him while he ran down the corridors. They weren't his knights. It didn't matter. It wasn't the crowned prince of Camelot who ran forward with a gleaming Excalibur in hand. It was Arthur, the future High King of Albion.

The corridor opened into a throne room. It was empty. They exited on the northern side, aiming for the royal quarters. Here, only few torches were lit. Arthur growled, "where to, Merlin?"

"How should I know, I just arrived!"

"This way, my lord."

The clang of steel answered at the same time. Arthur rushed in. Annis was standing by the bedside of his husband. She had a dagger in her hand. His eyes instantly darted to the other side of the room. Two tall silhouettes he knew all too well were facing each other. Gwaine had lost his customary smirk. For once, his face was serious, his eyes entirely focused on his adversary. Lancelot was dressed in black from head to toe, just like in his memory. He roared, cut forward. Gwaine pared the blow. Lancelot struck again. Gwaine matched hit for hit.

Arthur circled around them to reach the royal bed. The king was still unconscious. Annis frowned at him.

"What is the meaning of this? That man broke in, and then-"

"Your Majesty, you have to leave, now."

"My husband-"

"I'll protect the king. Please go."

"Out of question."

She shoved her dagger forward.

"Let them come, they'll taste my own steel."

Arthur couldn't help a smile. Indeed, Annis was a lot like Morgana.

Lancelot's cry of rage had him spun on his heels. Gwaine had pulled his personal trick on him. The smirk was back, as he held both their swords. Lancelot grabbed a small crossbow from his belt. Arthur shouted. Without a shield, Gwaine had little chance to block the arrow. He lunged to his left. Lancelot reloaded his bow. He aimed.

"No!"

Merlin held his hand forward. His eyes gleamed golden. The arrow exploded on an invisible shield. The blow sent Lancelot flying. He landed hard on his back. The dark hair man whimpered, knocked out. Two guards jumped to disarm him. Arthur released the breath he was holding.

"Gwaine…"

The soon-to-be knight grimaced, then accepted the prince help to get on his feet.

"He's almost as good as you."

Arthur chuckled.

"Almost is not good enough."

Gwaine nodded.

"Nice trick, Merlin."

The gawky man shrugged with a blush.

"I'm trying."

"So… What's now?"

Arthur clenched his jaw.

"Now, we'll find Morgana."

The queen stepped forward.

"She's probably with your sister."

Arthur gawped.

"What did you say?"

"She must be with my goddaughter, Morgause. Agravaine wanted them to meet."

"No, you said, 'my sister'."

Annis sighed.

"I fear this is a long and sad story, and not mine to tell."

He wanted to hear it all, now. Arthur gritted his teeth, growling.

"Where?"

"Arthur!"

She flew into his arms. For a breath, he drank in her smile, her angelic features that belonged only to him. Then her mouth trembled. Her eyes clouded in shock. His name changed into a moan against his lips. At a loss, he looked down. Excalibur was pressed into her to the hilt. The shadow of his nightmares sharpened. The shadow that followed her in his nightmares, the blurred figure that reached her and disappeared had a face he saw every morning in the mirror. His face.

_He_ had killed her.


	21. Chapter 21 : happy ending

Chapter 21 : Happy ending

For a few seconds, she felt nothing more than Arthur's arms around her waist. He murmured her name like a mantra "Morgana… Morgana…" in that special way only he had. Morgana let herself be lulled by his voice. She was so happy…

Morgause had said _she_ was Uther's daughter… She had a bracelet to prove it. The heavy silver was embossed with dragons, a gift Pendragon men never failed to offer their offspring on their birth day… Uther hadn't wanted to break that tradition, even for an illegitimate child, because of Vivienne's gift…

Morgause had planned to come to Camelot, to help her with her magic, using a protective charm with the very same bracelet… She had changed her plans when Annis had said that she, Morgana, was coming to Isca with Arthur. Arthur…

"Morgana… Oh God Morgana… Morgana I'm so sorry… I didn't want to… Morgana…"

"Arthur…"

He held her close. He was entitled to embrace her, the man who was not her brother, the man she loved so much, always had… She coughed, he had to know…

"Arthur… I… We're not…"

A twist in her stomach stole her breath, forbidding her to finish her sentence. It burnt, as if someone was rubbing salt on an open wound. She panted, "Arthur?"

The pain in his blue eyes matched the one pulsing inside her. Her body tensed to escape the scorch torturing her flesh.

"Arthur… Arthur it hurts…"

Talking was too painful. Her vision blurred.

"Stay with me, Morgana! Please stay with me… Merlin! Merlin do something, anything… You have magic, use it Damnit!"

She was cold. She hated hearing the desperation in his voice.

"Morgana… Morgana please don't leave me… I can't do it alone, there's no dragon this time…"

She wanted the pain to stop. The dear fool, when would he realize _**he**_ was the Dragon, the red dragon that would save the world, the High King that would lead Albion into another Golden Age… She wanted him to be strong for her, with her, her soul mate, her heart, her husband, powerful until Time itself end…

"Arthur, we can marry…"

"Yes, yes anything you want. Please Morgana… I love you, please, I'll do anything you want…Just stay with me… Merlin!"

Hands grabbed her, clawing at her dress, forcing her away from her love…

"Arthur…"

"I'm here, Morgana, I'm here… I'm not leaving you, I'm here…"

Her limbs felt so cold…

"Let me help, Arthur, I know what to do."

A palm she guessed belonged to Morgause pressed to her side, gently at first, then harder. Morgana swallowed a scream when ice filled the hole fire had carved in her side. Her hips bucked up in pain. She squirmed to escape the torture, it hurt, it hurt so much! Arthur's arms imprisoned her, keeping her at the mercy of the terrible pain. How could he!? He claimed he loved her, Love didn't hurt like that…

"Arthur! Make it stop! It hurt, make it stop!"

Unable to endure the pain any longer, Morgana stopped fighting the darkness, and let the shadows engulfed her.

"No! Morgana!"

Arthur cried out. His heart tried to escape his chest.

"Hum…"

Breathing hard, he shifted under the heavy duvet. Misty eyes met his, lids heavy with sleep. He pounced literally, hugging the lithe body as if he wanted to absorb it. Morgana whined, "Arthur… Can't breathe…"

"Don't care."

Arthur pulled her closer, forbidding the slightest space to come between them. His hands roamed over her back, her throat, her arms, relishing each part of her skin her nightshift allowed him to touch. Her body was warm under his palm, alive. He needed to feel she was alive. He assaulted her mouth, devouring her lips, desperate to feel her return his hunger.

Morgana squeezed one hand between them, finally depriving him of her mouth.

"We're not married yet, my prince."

She sounded her normal self, vaguely annoyed with him. Her voice contained a hint of a tease, a splash of seriousness. His Morgana… Panic receded, leaving behind a different form of frustration.

"So what?"

Morgana pushed harder, to no avail. She frowned against his heart.

"My mother may have taken a Pendragon out of wedlock, but I won't."

He grunted, then flipped on his back, taking her with him. Morgana tried to push away, once again overruled. Arthur caressed her hair to soothe her mood. He said, "Vivienne did it for us… Queen Annis said she had a vision of us on the High Throne of Albion. She accepted to bed my father so some of her magic imprinted on him and I could be conceived."

"I know. But it doesn't change the fact I want to wait for our wedding."

Arthur smiled. The word amazed him. The possibility of having her, every day, every night, forever, amazed him. He could wait a little longer. Everything would be all right from now on. She had promised…

Morgana writhed to find a more comfortable position. Arthur winced, brushing her flank through the fabric.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, don't worry."

She pressed a small kiss on his shoulder to reassure him.

"Did you dream about that night again?"

"Yeah…"

Arthur shifted to rest on his side with his head in the crook of his arm, watching her. His fingers caressed her cheek gently.

"I'm so sorry…"

"It was an accident, Arthur. At least you learnt to store your toys away when you don't need them."

"Not funny."

He pouted. Morgana chuckled, snuggling closer for a light kiss.

"Yes, it is; very."

He welcomed her caress, kissing her back slowly. Morgana clutched his shirt, her curves pressing dangerously into him. He rolled her on her back in the mattress, nuzzling the length of her throat. She whispered his name first in a moan, then like a warning.

"Arthur… Arthur James Pendragon if you don't stop this very minute, I… I'll change you into a toad!"

He growled in return, as always when she used his fully name. But it didn't annoy him so much now, especially when she was the one pretending her room was too cold so she could sneak into his bed. Arthur trailed kisses along her perfect jaw, playing with a strand of her hair. He nibbled at her shoulder, pushing the collar of her shift out of his way. Her sigh told him everything he needed to know…

"If by any chance you manage something like that, you'll have to kiss a toad to have _me_ back…"

The tantalizing shivers his mouth created slowly overcame her resistance. She too, wanted the fastidious ceremony to be over. She had waited for him for so long… Her hands started an exploration of their own, pulling on his shirt.

"We'll be married tomorrow…"

Her murmur stopped him more efficiently than threats. He grinned in her hair.

"I can hardly wait."

Morgana giggled.

"I noticed… Ah! No! Arthur! Don't you dare! Stop it! Stop it!"

She erupted in shrieks and more giggles. When she tried to avenge herself, Arthur blocked her hands easily, caging her in his arms for more tickling. Morgana squealed, "All right! Please stop… I yield!"

Arthur obeyed with a broad grin, exchanging the feather touches for a stronger grip on her waist.

"I knew you would."

He pressed a sound kiss on her petulant mouth, then another one on her forehead, taking her back into his arms, sadness and guilt perking again in his voice.

"I love you. If Morgause hadn't healed you…"

"Shush… I'm all right… We both are… Uther consented to our marriage, and your uncle even promised to let his grudge aside for the time of the festivities…"

"He could have been your father, you know. Vivienne chose Gorlois after my father… Well, huh, you know. But Agravaine was on the short list."

Morgana pulled a face, pushing as far away from Arthur as the sheets swirled around them let her.

"Oh please… That's… Eew…."

Arthur pulled her back to him.

"Anyway, he'll be too busy tomorrow to annoy anyone. He wants to make sure Gwaine does not elope with your sister."

"Our sister."

He groaned.

"I swear, this man has a soft spot for trouble."

"Don't prat. Morgause just wanted to help me deal with my magic. Uther sent her to Annis when our mother died, because he knew that father had… mixed feelings toward her. He would never have hurt her, but…"

She trailed off. Some days, she regretted Gorlois had chosen to separate her from her half-sister. Morgause taught her magic, and was here to talk with her about all and everything: knights, Arthur, marriage, Arthur, magic, Arthur… She was more at ease with her than she had ever been with Gwen. Morgana realized only now how much she had missed a feminine presence that was her equal, in birth and in magic.

"I'm glad she didn't come to Camelot. I would not have survived past childhood with the two of you on my back."

Arthur tried to joke, but his tone was vaguely bitter. Morgana caressed his face lightly. The reunion between the son, the lost daughter and Uther hadn't been peaceful. She had never seen Arthur so angry, or Uther so embarrassed. Maybe there was hope for Camelot, and the Kingdoms.

"She couldn't know Uther would confound me with her because of the crest on the bracelet…"

Arthur stretched one arm behind him to pick up a silver jewel on the nightstand. He huffed, "This damned thing almost ruined our lives."

Morgana leaned on him to entwine her fingers with his over the bracelet.

"How…"

He shifted under her, bringing her closer. She felt good in his arms. She felt right, like her slender form pressed to his made his soul, along with his body, complete.

"This one is mine. Father took it in the vault before he left Camelot. Just in case I need it before we could travel back to Camelot…"

Morgana flushed, and then warned, "That's another good lesson for you. Don't have children with anyone else. You would only create havoc in the succession line to the throne."

"I don't want anyone else. And that would be a problem only if I father boys."

She pulled a face at him, the retort spoiled by the smile his answer had brought to her lips.

"You Pendragon men are a horrible bunch of sexists."

"Using new words again? Who taught you that one?"

Morgana sighed in false exasperation and turned her back on him, tugging at his arm to wrap it around her waist.

"Shut up Arthur, and let me sleep. I wanted to be at my most beautiful tomorrow."

"You're always beautiful."

She slapped a venturing hand down her stomach.

"Compliments won't lead you anywhere tonight, my lord."

Arthur chuckled and kissed her hair, keeping her in his arms while he hid his face her neck.

"Do you think we'll ever find out who spellbound Lancelot?"

Morgana shivered and cuddled closer to him.

"Maybe. But I'm in no hurry to find out. Good night, my Champion…"

"Sweet dreams, my lady."

_The end is only the beginning_

_October 2012_


End file.
